3 Steps Above Heaven
by SmoothFluffle
Summary: "Ugly face." He whispers to her as the people dance around them. "Mouth breather." She tells him while the neon lights highlight her face. AU. Biker Mike Wheeler has a pained past, making him want to forget about his life and live in the now, but when he meets El, his whole world changes. ON HIATUS.
1. The ride

**A/N: I'm going to start by saying this: this is going to be extremely AU and the majority of the characters will be OOC. This is based on the books/movies '3 Steps Above Heaven', and every time I watched the movie, I always pictured my OTP lol. I always thought that the bad boy/ good girl thing was too cliche, but this story is pretty good, so I'll have to fall into the cliche cattegory. Btw, OH MY GOD, I thought it would be easy to 'write' a movie, because the actors already tell you what they're feeling with their faces and the visuals are more prominent to describe, but HOLY SHIT, they have so many emotions! And I need to write what they're thinking, which is a lot! So I hope you guys enjoy it!**

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 _One day it happens._

 _You're standing somewhere and you realize you don't want to be any of those around you._

 _You don't want to be the dickhead you just beat up._

"Your Honor," a blond man stands in court, pointing to his face. "I've got 11 stitches in this one, and 7 here." His face is purpled in some places and the wounds he points at don't seem to belong on his handsome face.

 _Or your father, or your sister, or anyone in your fucking family._

"The accused will stand." The judge orders, and the boy stands, looking dead serious and barely controlled. His eyes are devoid of any emotion as he stands stiff, only listening to the judge's verdict.

"This court finds Michael Edward Wheeler guilty of assault," his lawyer breathes hard next to him.

 _Or the judge._

"And sentences him to 18 months in prison, commuted to a fine of 10,000 dollars as this is a first offense and no signs of previous criminal records are presented."

 _Or even yourself._

"Court is adjourned." The judge slams her gavel down and Mike jumps from his seat, walking quickly out of the room.

 _You just want to run away._

"You must be careful from now on," His lawyer tells him, walking quickly to keep up with his pace while he removes his formal blazer off and hands it to his sister, taking his leather jacket from Nancy. "There can be no more violent incidents. Another offense means you'll go to prison."

"Mike, are you listening?" Ted asks him in a frustrated huff, not happy with the situation and even more frustrated as his son seems to show no sign of regret or thankfulness for the paid fine which freed him from prison.

"Why didn't mom come?" Mike asks instead, ignoring both his father and lawyer.

"She's on a trip." Ted answers with a dismissive wave.

"And don't _fucking_ call me Mike." He turns to look at him, pointing a dangerous finger and glaring. He leaves a shocked Ted, who stares at his back with a frown, as Nancy sighs with irritation behind him.

He runs down the steps, throwing the heavy front doors open and walking brusquely into the crisp morning air; he mounts his motorcycle and races out of the Courthouse into the busy streets.

 _Get the hell out of wherever you are._

Miles away, a girl finishes getting ready for school; she takes her bag and runs downstairs to meet her dad and sister, who motions impatiently at her from her place inside the car.

Mike drives fast, dodging cars and buses as the city starts waking up to another beautiful day. The cold air hits his face and it breathes life into his lungs, making him alert of his surroundings, and it helps to take his mind off of his predicament.

 _And suddenly it happens._

El smiles softly as Sara babbles in the front seat, pressing the button in the armrest to lower down the window as the last yawn of the morning leaves her rosy lips.

 _Something clicks._

Mike slows down as the traffic stops at a red light, easing between the rows of cars with his smaller bike, as the remains of his anger speed away.

 _And you know that things are going to change._

His curiosity spikes up as he spots a girl sticking her head out of the window a few cars away from him. He watches her sigh calmly as the sunlight highlights the golden tones in her hair.

 _They've changed already._

He whistles. "Hey, ugly face!" The sound sharp in the uncharacteristic quietness of the moment.

Her face turns towards him and she frowns in his direction.

"Yeah, you." He grins, overjoyed by her momentarily attention. He smirks at her, raising an eyebrow in an obvious leer as he studies her face for any signs of cuteness. The girl frowns deeper and puts her head inside the car again, weirded out by what just happened.

El grips the window with a hand, eying Hopper and Sara, who are still talking without even noticing her exchange with the stranger outside, and then nearly jumps out of her skin as a hand suddenly covers hers from outside.

Mike grins, lightly squeezing her hand. "Ugly face." El narrows her eyes at him confusedly as she snatches her hand away. "Hi." He laughs, trailing a little bit behind on his bike as the traffic starts moving, taking her away from his view.

He stays behind, contemplating the girl's shocked face, as the cars drive past him on the sides. His curiosity is spiked again as her face reappears, leaning out of the window to flip her middle finger at him with a glare.

His laughing face burns in El's brain as she settles back against the backrest of the seat, smiling quietly to herself in confused amusement.

He watches her car go, still laughing to himself as he starts speeding away. He was right: she was cute.

 _And they'll never be the same again._

"Bye, dad." El waves at her father as they arrive to school. Sara runs up the stairs as her friends wave at her, leaving a still amused El behind.

 _Never._

Miles away again, Mike contemplates the soft waves of the ocean as he rests his hands against the railing on the beach's border. His frown is back on his face and his run in with the cute girl drifts to the back of his mind as he ponders over the headache that is his life.

 _And when it happens, you know._

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.

.

"Hey, El!" Max greets her best friend with an excited grin. "Pose, pose!" She clicks her camera away as the brunette indulgingly makes funny faces at her, much to the redhead's amusement.

"Good morning." Their teacher, Mr. Brenner, enters the classroom and every girl scrambles quickly to find their seats. "Silence." He orders over the scraping of chairs and chatter, while taking out his things on the table. "Silence!" He barks, quickly ceasing any noise in the room.

The door opens and the girls grimace simultaneously, pitying the poor girl who was dumb enough to arrive late to Brenner's class.

"May I?" Ashley Martin asks Brenner with a pleading gaze, looking like she ran a marathon. Max widens her eyes and looks expectantly at the teacher.

"Late." He jerks his head in dismissal and Ashley bites her lip in frustration as she closes the door. "Notebooks closed and on top of your tables, please." He instructs as Max hisses behind El.

"El! El!" Max calls her quietly. "He's going to pick me!"

"Rebecca Johnson." Mr. Brenner reads from his list, and a girl from the first row raises from her seat and walks to the front with a gulp.

"Carla Larson." A girl from the back walks to stand in front of the board, on the left side of Rebecca Johnson, biting her lip anxiously and clutching her notebook to her chest.

"Ashley Mar—Oh, no, that's the one outside," Mr. Brenner shakes his head in annoyance, while Max scrunches her face up in agony. "Absent." He marks his list. "So… Mayfield." He looks up and stares at Max expectantly. "Translation."

El gulps, thinking quickly as Brenner turns to the board to write something. "Take your phone!" She whispers hastily to Max, the redhead nodding and quickly snatching her notebook from the table to hide the cellphone she takes from her skirt's pocket.

"Domus… itinere… eunte," El quickly texts the translation to Max, hoping with all her might that she's right. She looks up at Max, the redhead nodding in understanding as she takes a peek at her phone cautiously. "Moltus… ambulantus," Brenner pauses almost invisibly, looking sideways for a mid-second, before finishing writing. "Fuit."

Brenner breathes and looks down at his nails for a second, before turning around and eyeing his students. "Mayfield." He motions with a hand.

Max makes a show of studying the Latin words on the board, and then starts hesitantly. "On the way home…he had to walk a lot." Max nods, as if sure of herself.

"A lot." Brenner repeats. Max nods with a smile, sighing as she takes her teacher's face as a positive response. "You'll have to study _a lot_ to pass my class and get into college." Max's face falls.

"Phone." Brenner extends a hand to her expectantly. Max grimaces, throwing a quick look at her best friend as El's heart stops.

Brenner clicks away on the screen as soon as Max gives him the cellphone, and El meets the redhead's terrified eyes with the same fright in hers. He looks up when the beeping of a starting call fills the air, scanning the group of girls in front of him to find the messenger.

El's breathing puffs strongly out of her nostrils as her own cellphone starts ringing in her hands, her eyes unmoving from the table as the teacher walks into her row.

"Miss Hopper," He tells her as soon as he finds the ringing is coming from her. "Won't you answer my call?" He extends his other palm at her, and El places her cellphone on it wordlessly, as Max looks on the verge of a mental breakdown from her place still in the front. "Sit down." He orders the redhead with a jerk of his head as he walks back to the front.

"Let's continue," He says to the two remaining girls in front, as Max walks briskly to her seat behind El. "De strictus sensi cui super impia." He writes on the board.

"El," Max whispers as she takes her seat. "I'm sorry." She apologizes with a deep frown and a sorrowful tone.

"It's okay." El assures her, turning around a little and patting the redhead's hand, even though her face shows her tremor. Max leans down and presses a kiss to the back of the brunette's hand with a guilty face as Brenner barks "Silence!" at them.

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 **A/N #2: What did you guys think? Leave a comment! This will be updated mainly weekly, but because I'm still writing it and it IS a pretty long story, the updating schedule might change once in a while; specially because I will be going back to school in February, and Law school sucks ass, so I won't have that much time. Love you, mouth breathers!**


	2. A new King is born

**A/N: Hey! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and subscribed to this; it really means a lot to me to know that you guys are interested and enjoyed the first chapter. There's no Mileven in this chapter, but we get to know a little bit more of their backgrounds. Next chapter will be almost entirely Mileven, so wait for it next week ;) As always, please tell me what your thoughts on this are, and if you have any questions I'll be more than happy to answer them :D I love you all! Xoxo.**

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Loud cheers and blaring music fills the air as the night begins at the Siamese Races. Guys roar their bikes' engines to show off a little, while others settle for sitting down and enjoying a few drinks with their friends.

"Stacey, screwing a few times doesn't mean you're dating." Cassie Yates tells her friend as they walk aimlessly in the middle of the plaza. Troy passes them as he drives on his bike and they nod in greeting at him.

"So what?" Stacey huffs in irritation, crossing her arms over her leather vest as she scans their surroundings with narrowed eyes, heavy with eyeliner, looking for the guy she knows hasn't arrived. "Besides, his friends told me he never calls."

"Right, and you believed them?" Cassie looks at her in silent judgement. "Just look at them!" Both girls stop and look at the circle of friends a few feet in front of them, as Lucas thumps Dustin on the back and makes the curly haired boy drop his drink. The boys laugh as Lucas dodges his friend's punch and they all begin cheering loudly as the two friends start wrestling. They make an odd sight, screaming around like 7 year olds in leather jackets, but as Stacey looks around, they fit just right at the Races' scene.

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.

.

"Jim," Terry says as she walks into the living room, heels clicking against the floor. "Change it, this one looks better." She presses a navy blue tie to her husband's suited chest and returns his smile while helping him unknot his current one. "Girls, are you ready?" She yells into the hallway.

"Yes, mom!" El answers from her place in front of her vanity table, watching herself in the mirror as she carefully applies some lipstick on.

Sara comes running inside her bedroom and leans down to put her face next to El's to stare at herself in the mirror, too. "How old do I look like this?" The blonde asks her sister as she gestures to the makeup on her face.

"15." El snorts as she caps her lipstick tube and eyes her sister's pink eyelids.

"But I _am_ 15." Sara frowns.

"Let me see," El tells her as she stands up from her chair and takes her sister's face in her hands. She runs her thumbs gently on Sara's eyelids to take the makeup excess off, and then pats the girl's hair down. "Like this… you're about to turn 16." Sara throws her head back in laughter and El smiles down at her little sister.

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Mike scans the area as he rolls his bike around to enter the plaza, quickly spotting his friends. He parks and dismounts the motorcycle, putting the safety on and taking his helmet with him, still scanning the crowd for the black haired boy who he has plans with tonight.

Stacey jabs an elbow in Cassey's side as she spots M at the entrance, staring at him with a slow smirk as her friend rubs her side beside her.

Lucas is the first to spot his best friend, watching him with a smile as the other boys still mess around behind him. "M!" He throws an arm around his friend's shoulders, walking with him to wherever he's headed. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent, but I need 400 dollars for my bike." Mike laughs and shakes his head at his friend as he continues to walk, spotting a familiar head of auburn curls first. "At this rate I'm never taking it out of the repair shop!"

Mike takes off his leather jacket and smirks at Lucas while he hands it to him. "Don't worry about that now, alright?" He stands in front of Stacey and gives her a heated look, handing her his helmet and lightly touching her chin in a flirty exchange. She smiles to herself, taking the helmet as he walks past her with his friends running behind him.

His face loses all kind of lusty haze as he nears his challenger, making eye contact as the boy spots him, too. "Troy." He jerks his head towards the stage above them and the other boy nods. They fall in step together as they lift themselves with their arms and jump on the bandstand, sharing challenging looks as Mike takes off his white singlet, revealing a lean and muscled torso, and Troy removes his sweater, showing his tattoos and toned arms.

"We've got a new contest to see the new King of the Bandstand!" A guy announces overexcitedly in a megaphone as the people begin running towards the stage, trying to get the best places for the show. Four other guys start approaching Mike and Troy, equally bare-chested as they take in the competition.

Mike jumps over the car strategically placed below the ceiling of the bandstand, eyeing the metal railing he would have to hang from in just a few minutes.

"Counting is starting!" The announcer yells into the megaphone as the contestants fall into place, forming a line on the roof of the car as the crowd cheers wildly. Mike looks over his shoulder and beams at his friends as he spots them, grinning when they start cheering him on. "Who'll be the new King of the Bandstand?" The announcer wonders as he suddenly appears on top of the roof. "On your marks!" He yells, and the contestants grip the metal railing, grunting as they lift themselves up to hang on them. "Get ready! GO!"

"One!" The crowd counts with the announcer as they make the first lift. "Two! Three!" Mike shares a look with Troy, grunting as they start their physical contest. "Four! Five! Six!"

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.

.

"Don't look like you're desperately seeking someone." El hisses at Sara as they enter the party through the weirdly positioned front door in the second floor of the fancy house.

"But I am." The blonde tells her as she leans over the railing and looks down at the people below them. She scans the area and then smiles to herself as she spots a boy in a striped sweater. "There he is." She bites her glossed lip and runs towards the stairs, vibrating with excitement.

"Sara!" El runs behind her. "Don't rush—" She cuts herself off with a sigh as her sister runs straight to a brown haired boy. She flushes self-consciously as a boy gives her a weird look for running all over the house, hiking the strap of her purse higher up her shoulder and patting her hair as she clears her throat.

"Hi, Cody." Sara greets him with a bright smile, walking slowly to him just as she had watched in the movies.

"Hey!" Cody says to her, moving his eyes down her body as he takes in her green dress. "Well, shit, you have so much makeup on I didn't recognize you." He laughs. A few feet behind them, El narrows her eyes at the boy's insensitive words and berates Sara for liking douches.

The blonde tucks her hair behind her ears, self-conscious over Cody's comment. "Hey, would you like to drink something?" The brown-haired boy offers her. "Yeah, sure!" Sara smiles eagerly, throwing a contented look in her sister's direction as she follows Cody to the kitchen, where a bunch of people are pouring drinks.

El shakes her head in amused exasperation at her little sister's antics, before looking around and walking further in the house aimlessly. She smiles at a few friendly faces and curses Max for not being there with her.

She chats with a classmate for a few minutes, before the girl leaves her, and she was contemplating ditching her sister to go back to her warm bed before a pair of hands sneak around her from behind and squeeze her boobs. El yelps startled and then sighs annoyed as Max laughs hysterically at her. "Max!" she hugs her friend with a giggle as the redhead continues laughing and twirls her around in her arms. "I thought you weren't coming."

"Yeah, I was at another party," Max tells her as she sets her down and pulls her closer. "But it was full of gays. It was really boring, so I told a guy who was bored, too, to bring me here. That's him," Max points at a blond skinny boy, who waves back at them from his place next to Aaron Martin. "Chasing Ashley's brother."

As if sensing they were talking about her, Ashley walks to them, carrying a plate of hors d'oeuvres in a silver platter. "Hey, girls!"

"Hi, Ashley, happy birthday!" El tells the curly haired girl with a kind smile, giving her a hug.

"Yeah, happy birthday!" Max exclaims, giving her a hug, too.

"You guys want some?" She gestures to the appetizers on her hands. "No? Okay, well, the drinks are in the kitchen and there's a bar outside, too. Have fun, alright? See you later!" The birthday girl leaves with a smile.

Suddenly Max gasps and clutches El's arm. "Oh my god, El, I love this song! C'mon, let's dance with my new gay friend." The redhead drags her to the impromptu dance floor where the blond guy is dancing with Aaron.

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.

"That's the first one down!" The announcer cries excitedly as a boy lets go of the metal railing while the crowd continues cheering.

"Forty-eight! Forty-nine! Fifty! Fifty-one! Fifty-two!—Another one!" Sweat slides down Mike's back, pooling on the back of his jeans, as he pants with the effort of the lifts. He grunts, closing his eyes as he pushes his body to keep on.

"Fifty-six! Fifty-seven! Fifty-eight!—Ahhhh, Myers, you've gone down! Only three remaining!" The announcer cries out as the third boy falls, leaving only Mike, Troy and a meaningless boy.

He feels like his arms are going to fall out from their sockets, but he huffs and continues pushing up as his hands slick around the metal from the sweat. He's so close, _so close_ to winning.

"Sixty-four!—Lee, you're slipping! Sixty-six! Sixty-seven! Sixty-eight…"

Mike drowns them out as he keeps lifting his weight up, gasps leaving his mouth as his muscles scream from the effort. Sweat from his hair runs down his face and some drops fall into his eyes, but he squeezes them shut with a shake of his head.

"Eighty-one! Eighty-two! Eighty-three—And Lee's down! The final countdown, everybody!"

"Ten seconds! Come on!" Mike encourages Troy, not wanting this to be an easy win.

"Let's have a final sprint!" The announcer screams at the crowd as they grow crazy, Lucas' screams tearing through the noise as he screams M's name.

"One! Two! Three!" Troy starts lifting himself slower, not reaching up enough anymore, and Mike grunts with tiredness as victory calls his name. "Four! Five! Six..."

"Come on!" He screams at Troy as the King starts slipping.

"Seven! Eight! Nine!" The crowd's voices blend in a huge scream as Troy gives up and falls from the Bandstand, leaving Mike's way to victory free.

"YEAH! C'MON, M!" Dustin screams as Will whistles wildly and Lucas pounds the stage's floor in excitement.

Mike shifts his grip, his sweaty hands moving over the railing, and then grunts in exhaustion as he lifts himself for a final time. "And ten!" He shouts in victory.

"TEN!" The crowd yells, screaming and shouting and making a ruckus as the new King is _born_.

Mike jumps down, his muscles straining and he's sure that if they could, they would sigh in relief. He runs overjoyed into the open arms of Lucas, who jumps with him excitedly, as Dustin slaps his sweaty back in congratulatory shouts.

"There's a new King of the Bandstand! Troy has lost his throne after two years!" The announcer screams into the megaphone as Mike looks at Troy over the joyous celebration of his friends, and he points at him in silent victory as Troy fumes angrily, clenching his overused fists and breathing wildly.

"Hey!" Will exclaims suddenly. "There's a private party in the high zone!"

"Can we go?" Lucas asks excitedly, still hugging Dustin.

"Sure, I've got tickets!" Will grins wickedly, sharing a laugh with Tom –another one of their friends—as Lucas cheers while giving Mike his jacket back.

"Coming?" Mike asks Stacey as he slips on his singlet, throwing his signature leather jacket on top.

"Not to a rich kids' party." She tells him with crossed arms.

He nods and walks away, basking in the glory of being the new King of the Bandstand and smiling at his friends' wild excitement. They all jump from the stage and walk towards their bikes, hoping for good entertainment at the party they're about to crash.


	3. The Party

**A/N: Hey, guys. So... thank you all so much for the reviews and favs/follows you gave this story. I know this is only starting, but I can't help feeling sad that this is not having the impact I was hoping for. Because this is going to be a long story, and I don't knw if I'll have an audience to keep encouraging me through the chapters, I've decided to wait for the response to this chapter in order to make a decision. If it's well recieved, and it has a couple of reviews, then I'll update next week again; if not, then I've decided to take this story down.**

 **With that being said, I hope you guys like this chapter; it's one of the few I was very excited to write since the beginning, and I hope you enjoy it. Lots of love! :)**

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Max laughs as her new friend spins her wildly, dancing with the upbeat of the song. A couple of people dance around them, enjoying the fun atmosphere that the song has brought to the party. El smiles as she watches Max's hair fly around as Daniel – the new friend—bends her down, quickly bouncing her back and shaking his shoulders to match the redhead's dance moves.

El slips through the people until she's out of the dancing group, walking until her feet take her to the patio, where she breathes in as the fresh air ruffles her white flowy dress around. She eyes the wooden bridge above the swimming pool, walking to stand on it and look over Ashley's mom's garden, obscured by the dark night. She doesn't notice a boy's eyes following her, glued to her form ever since she stepped outside, but her body tenses as the new voice joins the calm quietness in the bridge.

"What do I have to do to make you forgive me?" James asks her as he comes to stand next to her.

El smiles, looking over at her ex-boyfriend in amusement. "I've been looking for reasons to do it, but I can't find any."

"Typical of women." He laughs, shaking his head a little, as he looks down at the clean water in the pool.

"You see?" El questions with an eye roll. "That ' _typical_ ' is what ruins everything."

She looks at him and can't help but smile as his twinkling eyes find hers.

"You look beautiful tonight."

"Just tonight?" She laughs, turning around to rest her body on the railing of the bridge so she can face James.

"Well, always." He answers with a lopsided smile.

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"Carla," Ashley says as she walks to the couch, where her dark haired classmate is sitting with a few other friends. "Your brother called. He said he's coming with a few friends."

"What?" Carla says with an utterly confused frown. "But I'm an only child." She tells everyone with a bewildered laugh.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings, and Ashley runs upstairs to open the door with Carla following her closely.

They're met with a group of 6 guys on the other side of the door, all dressed as some kind of leather-wearing gang and definitely _not_ from around the neighborhood.

"Uhmmm, hi?" Ashley greets them with a frown.

"Hello!" The boys chorus, some even lifting a hand in a wave.

"And who's my supposed brother?" Carla asks with furrowed eyebrows.

"Hey, sis!" Will waves cheerily as he stalks past the girls in the front door, walking inside quickly.

"Hey, sis!" The other boys shout, too, imitating Will's actions and running behind the shorter guy, laughing.

"There's appetizers if you wan—" Ashley trails off as the last boy enters the house, pausing to take one last drag from his cigarette and then flinging it outside. Mike throws both girls a smirk and then walks past them, trailing behind his friends as they run downstairs where the party is at. Carla shares an ' _omg hot boy alert_ ' glance with the birthday girl as Ashley closes the door, looking longingly at the tall boy's back.

Like a hurricane, the boys come running downstairs, startling everyone with their loud whoops and hollers. Will runs straight to the DJ cabin, snatching the headphones from the guy's head and hip-shoving him to take his place, eyes scanning the playlists in front of him. Tom and Ryan go straight to the kitchen, snatching beer bottles and red cups from the island, the former jumping to the middle of the couch to take a seat next to Carla. "What's up, sis?" He asks her with a leer as he throws an arm around her shoulders and the other around another girl.

Lucas goes straight to the first door he finds, grinning madly when he finds all the purses and jackets stacked neatly on the bed. He hums cheerily to himself, to the beat of one of Will's songs, as he begins opening wallets and taking dollars from them. Dustin, somehow, finds a bottle of shampoo, and he proceeds to spray the soapy liquid into the cool water of the pool, taking the cleaner stick and moving it wildly inside, laughing giddily as huge bubbles and white foam begin to form on the water surface.

People begin to stare at them, frowning at the unknown boys who are shouting, dancing wildly with the girls, and taking the drinks without a care.

"Holy shit," Ryan gasps, laughing after he gulps a drink from his cup. "This party is so lame, but this is great alcohol!" Mike laughs with him, thumping his back as the boy resumes his drinking, and then looks out of the window as something catches his eye. He leaves his friend to walk closer to the window, looking out to the patio, where a girl in a white dress seems vaguely familiar.

He frowns, trying to see her face better and trying to remember where he knows her from; but, then the lights of the bridge hit her face and her soft features are illuminated, making it clear to him who she is. He smiles to himself, shaking his head as he looks at the girl he met in traffic. He looks while she chats with a boy, saying something and nodding with her head as she gestures to the house. His eyes sparkle with interest as the pair begins walking off of the bridge, crossing a still bubbling-the-pool-up Dustin, and entering the house. Seems like he would be getting that entertainment he hoped for.

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Lucas looks up, startled, as the door of the room opens. A girl in a purple halter dress comes inside, but then stops as she realizes he's in there.

"Close the door, close the door!" He persuades her, making frantic moves with his hand, while the other is clutching a freshly picked silver purse.

The redhead closes the door and walks in quickly, smiling at him with a hazy gaze that means she's starting to get buzzed, as she walks closer to him. Her smile leaves her face as she stares at him, puzzling out what he's doing.

Not ceasing his snooping, Lucas opens the purse and takes out a black and white wallet, but stops as he realizes the redhead hasn't moved and is staring at him. "What do you want?" He asks with a laugh.

"My purse." She answers him, staring at him with the bluest eyes Lucas has ever seen.

"Take it." He gestures to the bunch of bags on the bed, resuming his search as he opens the wallet to see its contents.

"I can't." Max tells him with a raised eyebrow. "An asshole got to it first."

Lucas looks puzzled for a few seconds, before he looks down at the purse he's holding and puts two and two together. "Here." He laughs as he hands her the silver purse, but still rummages through her wallet.

"Didn't your mother tell you not to go through other people's things?" The redhead asks him with raised eyebrows while she opens a small zipper inside the bag.

"I never met my mother," Lucas answers with a careless shrug. "But I'll tell yours something," He says to her while pointing a finger as his handsome face begins twisting into a smirk.

"Yeah?" Max asks with a sarcastic face. "What?"

"You can't go around life with just 30 dollars in your pocket." He laughs, throwing her the wallet and lifting up the little roll of bills between his pointer and middle finger.

She checks the wallet's insides with a frown. "That's my week's pay."

" _Was_." He corrects with a smirk while checking her out. _This girl is cute!_ Lucas thinks.

"Then I'll go hungry because of you." She tells him with a twist of her mouth, turning around as she takes a small package from her purse.

"Hey," Lucas stops her, twisting around to stand in front of her while he touches her upper arms. "If you want, I'll pick you up tomorrow and I'll buy you lunch." He offers with a smile.

"Know what?" She begins, hissing inwards with a grimace as if she was apologizing. "When I'm paying, I like to choose my company." She sets her face and then throws her purse against his chest, moving to walk towards the door but not before Lucas sees the plastic in her hand.

"What you've got there?" He asks her while trying to take her hand to see the item.

"Stop!" She yells as they struggle for the plastic package, twisting around each other. "Stop!"

His bigger form gives him the upper hand, and then he wins the tug-war with a triumphant smile. "Holy shit!" He gasps with wonder as he holds up a tampon.

She frowns at him, still trying to take the package from his hands. "Forget lunch," He tells her with a smirk, avoiding her grabby hands and lifting the tampon out of her reach. "What'll we do after? Tell each other jokes?"

"Look," She tells him exasperated and a little upset, finally snatching the tampon from his hands. "I'm sure I wouldn't laugh at yours and you wouldn't understand mine. I mean the jokes!" She snaps, staring at his confused face. "Mouth breather." She glares at his perplexed face, turning around and leaving the room with a final look at him over her shoulder, leaving a stunned but intrigued (and just a little bit aroused) Lucas behind.

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.

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"If you try drinking some alcohol I'm going to tell your mother." Mike says with a smirk as he stands behind El, watching her as she pours what looks to be a strawberry smoothie in a glass.

"Excuse me?" El asks with a frown without turning around.

"Don't you remember me?" He asks, clenching his jaw to keep himself from grinning widely when her pretty face turns around to face him. "I accompanied you to school today; or well, I escorted you, like the important people." He grins as acknowledge flashes on her face.

"Oh, yeah," she nods with an innocent look on her face. "You were the one shouting incoherent bullshit."

"I only said _one_ bullshit," he leans down a little so he can whisper. "Ugly face."

She rolls her eyes so hard that he's a little afraid they will get stuck on the back of her head. He eyes her back once she turns back to her drink, taking in the soft silhouette he can make through the fabric of her dress. "You liked it, though, right? It always seems to work on girls like you." He continues to tease her.

" _Like me_?" She scoffs sarcastically, turning back again to face him with a raised eyebrow, and stares into his eyes with an incredulous look in hers, which Mike thinks are quite pretty.

"Uptight." He responds with a smirk, enjoying the way her nostrils flare with annoyance. She really was cute.

"Sorry, did you want something?" A brown haired boy asks him with a frown as he comes to stand on the other side of the drinks' table, facing him.

"A coke, please." He tells him without looking away from the girl's face. "I have to drive." He tells her with a serious face, partially playing, as he leans down again to get closer to her.

"El?" The other boy asks the girl as he hands the opened coke to Mike. _So that's her name, then._

"I'm good, thanks, James." She answers with a soft voice and a gentle smile, turning to move her smoothie around with the plastic straw in it.

"See? When you're nice like that, you look a little less ugly." He teases with a smirk, tapping her chin with a finger.

He enjoys her flushed face for a few seconds, watching how her soft cheeks burst into pink splotches and how her brows furrow in anger, as 'James' emits an indignant cry on her behalf, but his entertainment doesn't last long before she's angrily throwing her smoothie on his face.

He gasps as the cold drink hits his skin, grimacing as the thick drops run freely down his face, and he has to fight himself as a hot burst of anger curses through his body. "Oh…" He says in warning, shaking his head to fling the remaining of the drink off, as his ears detect the gasps of the people around them.

James' laughter booms through the ringing in his ears, and he opens his eyes to see the boy's joyful face as he watches El's smoothie smeared on Mike's face. He doesn't fight the urge to make the stupid kid stop laughing, so he reaches out to push him blindly as he wipes his face with his other hand. Either his push was too hard and held too much force behind (no doubt fueled by anger), or that James boy was too heavy, because as soon as the boy stammered backwards, his body hit the drinks' table and he fell on top of it, tumbling it down to the floor with him.

"James!" El yelps, crouching down to touch the fallen boy's arm in concern, as the people gasp again. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

He shrugs his leather jacket off, eyeing the pool outside as his mind quickly forms a revenge plan. "Lucas, take this." He gives his jacket to his best friend, who suddenly materializes behind him.

With quick movements, he leans down and grabs El's arm in one hand, maneuvering the girl up to press her stomach to his shoulder and lifts her up, crossing his other arm under her thighs to keep her from slipping from his grasp. She screams, caught off ward, as she wiggles, trying to jump down from him.

"Let go of me!" She screams, thumping his back with frustrated hands, as a few people go check on the still-fallen James. "Put me down!"

A few boys rush to her aid, trying to either pull her down or hit Mike to stop his actions, but before any damage can be done, Mike's friends are there, throwing punches and screaming in annoyance as they block any reach-outs to their leader.

People begin screaming, girls' high pitched shouts filling the air, as the fight breaks out officially; the majority of the party's boys jump in to fight for honor, ego, or whatever it is they think they're fighting for, but the snobbish kids are no match for the biker boys, who have previous experience in the field. James observes the situation, ignoring El's cries, knowing he's no match for the guy, and taking in the fight that continues to escalate as the foreign boys begin using the house's items as weapons.

Mike takes the window his friends have created for him, and walks outside quickly, thoroughly entertained as El wiggles and screams above him. He can't help himself from coping a slight feel, his fingers splaying against the curve of her ass while the girl continues to thump his back and shoulders.

"No, no, no, no, please, please!" El yelps, hair blocking her vision from continuing her desperate help-seeking search (which was not successful, as everyone is too busy trying to avoid the punches, kicks, or broken glass, as vases fly in the air), noticing just _where_ he is headed to. "Please, I'm sorry I threw that drink at you!"

"The damage," He tells her over her desperate pleads, not containing his wide grin, as they near the full-of-soapy-foam pool. "The damage has been done, already." The last thing she hears before she's submerged by water is his loud laughter, her throat raw as she screams while going down.

Her eyes close at once when the cold water surrounds her; her breath puffs out of her in a stream of bubbles as his weight pulls them down. His eyes sting from the soap in the water, but he fights to keep them open just so he can look at her underwater form.

They emerge from a cloud of bubbles, Mike passing a quick hand up his face to push his soaking hair away from his eyes. He watches her with a shit-eating grin as she splutters, splashing around with her arms as she takes a huge gulp of air. He lunges for her again, this time keeping his eyes open from the beginning as he drags her down again. He chokes with water as his mouth opens in a laugh, watching her innocently pinch her nose closed as her face scrunches. His eyes track her skin, exposed by her lifted dress that scrunches up around her shoulders by the drag of the water; he takes in her shapely hips, clad in a baby pink pair of panties, and the soft curve of her waist. His lungs scream for oxygen and he swims up before he can inspect the contents of the matching pink bra.

El gasps greatly, taking in a huge breath of air as her head pops out of the water. "You're out of your mind!" She screams furious over the waves of water he keeps splashing to her. "This is a Valentino!"

"Ugh," she shudders as she swims away from him. "It's freezing!"

"It's good for the circulation!" He grins toothily at her. "It pumps more blood to your brain!" He watches her get out of the pool, still grinning at her furious face as he takes in the state of her outfit. "You have to understand," He tells her as she pulls down the hem of her soaking dress, trying to brush the bubbles from her face. "That strawberry milkshakes are _offered_ to people, not thrown at them."

She glares daggers at him. "And you tell Valentino," He begins with a mischievous leer. "That the dress looks a thousand times better wet."

She looks down at herself, panic and embarrassment flushing her already-red-from-the-cold face as she realizes the flowy fabric and the white of the dress have been made sheer by the wetness on it. She looks around for something to cover her see-through Valentino, but thinks better of it and jumps into the pool again.

She watches moodily as he swims past her, pausing to (try to) kiss her shoulder, and jumping out of the pool to stand next to it, shaking water from his face as he stares amusedly at her.

"Want me to bring you a towel?" He asks her with a smirk as he flings off his drenched white singlet. "I don't want you catching a cold."

"Fuck off!" She snaps viciously, and his smirk widens.

"M!" Lucas comes running to him. "We have to go, that idiot you pushed called the police!" He tries pulling his arm but Mike stops him with a finger, making him wait as he crouches down to get to eye-level with her.

"Next time we take a bath together, remind me to wash your mouth out with soap." He tells her with a heated wink, remaining there for a few seconds as Lucas panics behind him, taking in her flushed face and fiery look as she hits the water with anger.

He laughs as he stands up, taking his leather jacket from a frantic Lucas, and turning around to blow a final kiss at her, leaving her cold, wet and angry.


	4. A wild ride home

**A/N: Hi! You guys, thank you so much for the reviews and comments. It really does mean a lot to me that you take interest in this story. If you hadn't noticed yet, Mike doesn't go by his actual name; they call him 'M', and there's a reason for it, which you'll read about in this chapter. Enjoy, and we'll see each other next week!**

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Annoyance runs through her veins as the cold wind hits her face, drying her still damp hair. "Why didn't you do anything when that mouth breather threw me in the pool?" She asks James, turning her head slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye.

"El," James laughs cockily as he drives. "It was all planed! I was the one who called those idiots to cause a brawl, so I could stay with you after."

She frowns, shaking her head in disbelief at his words, as they enter the tunnel. "Well, I don't think Ashley will forgive you. They totally wrecked her house." She bites her lip as she remembers her crying friend who she left a few minutes ago.

Suddenly, multiple beeps sound from behind them, startling the pair.

"What the hell?" James mutters with a frown as he peers through the rear-mirror.

Six motorcycles drive next to them (or around them), honking their claxons obnoxiously to make the James pay attention to them.

El frowns as panic erupts in her chest, grabbing the arm rest in fear as the bikes close up on them. She screams as the sound of broken glass bursts through the air, along with the obvious thumping on the trunk of the car, which tells her that they're being vandalized.

"What the fuck are they doing?!" James screams as he tries to look at the bikers while simultaneously trying to keep the car from crashing.

"Stop! Go away!" El screams frightened as the bikers begin hitting the car sides with baseball bats.

"This is my father's car!" James exclaims with anger, as a slightly familiar dark-skinned boy with a barely-on helmet presses a key to the car and begins dragging it across the side single handedly, while clutching the bike's driver's shoulder with his other hand.

A whistle calls for her attention and she looks to her open window to see the guy from the pool smirking at her as he rides his bike next to her (again).

"Where's the police now, you son of a bitch?" A curly haired brunette asks James as he leans down next to his window; James gasps, disgusted and angry, as the guy spits in his face.

He wipes his eyes hastily, observing another biker who is tailing him very closely through the rear mirror. El screams again as the tailer slams a bat on the rear windshield, crashing the window and making glass pieces scatter inside the car.

"You want war, assholes?!" James screams at them, breathing heavily as El frowns at him in confusion. He presses on the gas, speeding on and leaving a few bikes behind, and smirks in satisfaction as he sees that the one who was tailing him is still close.

"Stop, please!" El yells as he starts moving in S shaped waves, trying to make the others desist on their chase.

Suddenly, he presses hard on the brakes, stopping the car hastily, making El lurch to the front with a scream, and making the tailer crash against the trunk of the car.

Mike's heart stops as he pulls on the brakes, watching Will lurch out of his bike and fly above the roof of the car, coming to a stop as he slams against the ground in front of the vehicle.

"Shit!" He hears Dustin breathe as the guys stop next to Mike.

James breathes in for a second, before he presses on the gas pedal, racing away from the scene and only avoiding running over Will as a second thought. El whimpers as she looks at the boys through the side mirror, watching as they run to help their friend up.

All except for one.

"You fucking asshole!" Will screams as Ryan and Dustin pull him up.

"Go to hell!" The driver yells back at him as the car starts disappearing from view.

"You okay, Will?" Mike asks him concerned, coming to a momentarily stop on his bike.

The smaller boy nods in reassurance as Lucas picks up his blue helmet from the ground and hands it to him. Mike nods to himself, shares a quick look with Lucas, and then drives on. They all stay quiet for a few breaths as they watch their leader's red taillights speed away.

.

.

.

"Shit!" James exclaims as he parks on the side of the road. He steps out from behind the wheel and slams the door closed. He inspections the car, noticing that the biggest damage is in the back; he knows a guy who can probably find him a new rear windshield for a fair amount of money, and the busted taillight is easy to fix. "It's okay," He assures El as the brunette -wearing his blue sweater over her ruined dress and with her hair still damp- slams the door closed behind her. "They're just a few scratches."

"They could've killed us!" She exclaims indignantly, angry over his violent actions.

"It's okay." He repeats.

"Well, there's still time." A voice says from behind them, and suddenly Mike is pinning James to the trunk of the car.

"S-sorry!" James exclaims in fear as Mike looks down darkly at him.

"Sorry?" Mike asks him as he slaps him lightly on the cheek. "Sorry for what?" He watches El stand there with anxious eyes, looking quickly between him and the wimp under him. "For calling the police? Or for running over my friend?" She's really cute. She's also _very_ distracting for him at the moment. "You're so hot." He tells her with a grin, looking down at her exposed cleavage.

"Leave him alone." She tells him as the other boy keeps apologizing. "Leave him alone, you mouth breather!"

Mike pulls James down to the ground, hovering over him with dangerous eyes. "You want to grovel? Okay, say after me: I won't ruin the party." He orders with a finger as El continues to shout behind him.

James looks up at him with huge eyes and turns into a bumbling idiot. "Say it: I won't ruin the party for the people who know how to have fun." Mike repeats.

"Stop, you animal!" El screams in desperation, looking around for some kind of miracle.

"Say it!" Mike pulls on the hair above James' right ear. "I won't—"

"I won't ruin the party…" James winces.

"Stop! Please, stop!" El screams, running to a car that drives past her without a second glance, but she continues waving her hands as a second car comes into view.

"For the people…" Mike prompts.

"For the people who know how to have fun, _ow!_ " James yelps as Mike continues pulling on his hair.

"Please, help!" She pleads desperately as a familiar face greets her from inside a car. "Mr. Holland!" Her voice edges on hysteria as her father's friend stops the car and eyes the two boys as he steps out of the vehicle.

"Jane!" Mrs. Holland exclaims as she leaves the comfort of her car and grabs the girl by the forearms. "What's going on?"

"I won't ruin the party…" Mike keeps making James repeat, seemingly oblivious to the new people in the scene.

"They're going to kill each other, please, help me!" El quickly pleads the couple as Mr. Holland rushes to the boys on the ground.

"For the people who know how to have fun!" James cries as he nods, trying to get into the guy's good graces by repeating everything he says.

"Okay, knock it off!" Mr. Holland tries stopping them by forcefully pulling on Mike's elbow. "Knock it off, boy, that's enough!"

Mike tries to free his arm from the man's grasp, but is met with resistance, and without trying to, he accidently jabs the man's face with his elbow, hitting the stranger's nose hard and strongly.

"Honey!" Mrs. Holland cries out as her husband falls to the ground by the brusque impact. She runs to him and helps him get up, throwing the boys a dirty look.

"Shit!" Mike breathes out as he watches the (now bloodied) man over his shoulder. Anger shots through his body as he looks down at the boy under him. "I hit him because of you! This is your fault! Fuck, _you_ made me hit him!" He screams in frustration.

"Jane," Mrs. Holland tries pulling her with them as Mr. Holland hurriedly gets in the car. "Come on, sweetie, come with us!"

El pulls her arm from the frantic woman's hands, staring shocked at Mike's back as he yells at James. Mrs. Holland leaves her when she refuses to follow her, and the woman slams the car door shut once she's inside. As she watches the car speed away, anger, frustration, indecision, and anxiety swirl inside her body. She swings her eyes back to the boy in the leather jacket, and settles for anger as she runs to him.

"Leave him alone!" She screams as she launches herself on his back. "Leave him alone, you stupid brute!" She throws her arms around his neck as Mike gets up, spinning around to get her off of him.

"Alright! Alright! Get off!" He tells her, trying to stop her from choking him as she squeezes her arms around his throat. James takes the chance and runs to his car, getting behind the wheel and not even sparing a second glance to El.

"I hate you!" She tries to wiggle off as she hears the wheels screeching against the pavement, but he keeps spinning her around. "Put me down!" She screams at him.

"Okay, okay!" He stops, feeling her arms sliding on his back as he sets her on her feet. "I've put you down!"

El watches desperately as James speeds past them, driving away quickly before she can even scream at him to wait for her. She stands there worriedly staring as his lone taillight speeds away, before a tap on her shoulder captures her attention.

"He's gone," He tells her, trying not to grin as he takes in her stricken expression. Something about this girl makes him forget his anger, makes him be amused all the time when he's in her presence. "And I'm leaving, too."

El looks at him franticly as he walks to his bike, looking around the lonely road for any kind of miracle, again. "How am I getting home?" She asks him, a little hysterical, as he turns on the bike in the shadows of the road trees, the lights blinding her for a second.

He shrugs, smirking once she turns her back to him, and he stares amusedly at her as she looks around, driving a circle around her to stop on the side of the road, where the wimp's car had been parked just minutes ago.

"Let me get on your bike." El tells him as she throws cautious looks at him, knowing it will be her only option for getting home tonight.

"What?" Mike asks her with an incredulous raise of his eyebrow and laughter in his voice.

"Let me get on your bike." El repeats as she walks closer to him.

"Okay, you say I'm an animal and a brute, right?" He asks, trying to keep himself from grinning ( _again_ ) as she begins to look sheepish. "I can't let someone like that take you home." She begins to look like she might cry, and that breaks Mike's façade, his face splitting into a wide grin. "I'm doing this for your own good," Mike tells her as he begins revving his bike. "Tomorrow you'll regret not thinking before you talk."

The side of her face lights up as a car appears, and she turns around with hopeful eyes as the car stops.

"Please, stop." She begins hopefully, but trails off a little as she takes in the driver's appearance.

"You want me to take you somewhere, cutie?" The guy offers her with an obvious leer, making her take a step back in apprehensiveness.

"And do you want me to break your face?" Mike snaps behind her, glaring at the guy who looks like he has everything but the best intentions with El. "Go," He jerks his head in a dismissive way as El gulps and inches closer to him. "Go!" He snaps again, more forcefully, and it seems to work as the guy follows his instructions and drives away with one last disappointed look in El's way.

El stares at the car with a trepidation, clenching her hands together as she begins to think she'll have to sleep here. A deep sigh is emitted by the object of her frustrations, and she turns around to see Mike looking at her with an intense look in his eyes.

"C'mon, hop on." He tells her, jerking his head to gesture to his bike. "C'mon, I've fought enough people because of you tonight."

He smiles softly as she walks with cautious steps in his direction, his stomach fluttering a little as she holds onto his side to keep her balance while she throws a leg out to climb on the bike.

The minute she's on, she closes her eyes tightly and throws her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly as she presses her face against his back to hide her view in apparent fear.

He decides to mess with her a little. He turns the handles, revving the engine as the bike begins to lurch forward, but doesn't move.

"Wait, wait, wait," He grins widely, deciding he really _is_ getting entertained tonight. "I can't move," He tells her over his shoulder. "You're squeezing me." He explains as she makes a questioning hum, gesturing to her overly-tight embrace that pins his leather jacket down.

She breaks apart quickly, frowning confusedly as he turns around further to look at her face. "If you hold my jacket down, I can't drive." He murmurs softly to her, really liking the closeness of the situation as he gets to see the dashes of gold on her big brown eyes. "Please…" He gestures down, lifting the hem of his jacket, waiting for her to take his implication. She looks down at his bare torso, noticing the firmness of his skin (against her will), and flushing as she places her hands over his naked stomach. She rolls her eyes as he throws her a smirk, and then closes them tightly against his back as the bike begins moving, for good.

.

.

.

After getting quick instructions from her (and he means _quick_ ; the girl had opened her eyes for about 3 seconds to orientate herself, and then muttered the instructions from her smushed place against his back), Mike stops in front of a big house, standing tall and proud in a nice neighborhood, not unlike his old one, back at his parents' house.

He turns his bike off, and puts a foot down to keep their balance, grinning amusedly to himself as El doesn't seem to realize they've arrived.

"Do you want to stay like this all night or would you like to change positions?" He mutters in the most sensual voice he can muster, his amusement betraying his tone as a shit-eating grin takes place on his face.

El retracts her squeezing arms from his skin quickly, abruptly realizing where they are. "Sorry," she tells him, pushing her hair away from her face as she jumps down from the bike. "I had never ridden on the back of a motorcycle before."

"So I'm your first?" He asks her with a handsome smirk.

She rolls her eyes at the innuendo, quickly remembering why he got on her last nerve, but then, flashing lights hit the side of her head and she grimaces, turning around to see who they belong to.

"Shit." She curses, turning back to him with wide eyes as she pulls the sweater tighter around her. Mike observes her as he dismounts the bike, noticing her nerves and fearful eyes an older woman opens the door of the car.

"El," Terry breathes in, eying the rumbled state of her daughter's clothing and hair, and then her gaze hardens as she takes in the audience they have. "Tell me you didn't get on this thing." She orders her daughter with a hard look, gesturing to the bike with a manicured hand, as Jim steps out of the car, too.

"Mom," El begins, twisting her fingers together as Mike raises his eyebrows. "I—"

"She had no other choice, ma'am, really," Mike buts in, trying for politeness but failing as the cocky smirk doesn't leave his face. The woman stares at him with a challenging look in her eyes, as if daring him to keep on talking to her, and El widens her eyes, glaring at him over her mother's shoulder as Terry pushes her behind her. "The guy who was driving her ditched her, and she had to come back with me."

The woman glares at him, matching El's glare, and then throws a ' _we'll talk later_ ' look at her daughter over her shoulder. The tense air is cut by a buzzing sound, and Mike turns around to see a blonde girl being dropped off by another guy in a motorcycle, a couple feet behind them.

"Hey, mom!" Sara grins excitedly, running at them with her green dress fluttering around her knees as she waves goodbye at Cody.

"And you!" Terry glares at her youngest. "What part of stay with your sister didn't you understand?"

"Hello." Sara greets the hot guy with a flirty smile, instead of responding to her furious mother.

"Hi." Mike answers with a grin, greatly enjoying the overall situation.

"Get in the car," Terry orders both girls as she reaches out to grab Sara's arm with a firm grip. "You two are grounded! No phones for a week!" She pushes Sara to walk in front of her, the blonde looking back to smile at Mike one last time.

"You're exactly like your mother," Mike whispers to El, trailing behind her for a few inches as the girl begins following her mother. The girl stops sideways to stare at him with confusion and a little apprehension swimming in her eyes, and he leans down closely, almost touching her nose with his. "A grump."

She glares at him, scrunching her nose up in anger, and huffs as she walks away from him, leaving him with a smile firmly planted on his lips. Terry watches him over the door of the car, still waiting for El to get inside before she does, and his smile dims considerably with the glare she sends his way.

"What were you doing with him?" Sara asks her once they're both in the backseat. "Are you two dating?"

"I don't even know him." El responds with a frown as she catches her father's eyes through the rear-mirror.

"His name is Michael Wheeler, but they call him 'M'," her sister tells her with a more hushed tone as their mother finally gets inside the car, slamming the door behind her. "Something bad happened to him and he wants to forget his name," the blonde continues as they pass the handsome boy, El's heart fluttering against her will when he waves goodbye at her with a smirk. "My friends and I say it's M for Musketeer," Sara giggles as they begin entering the house's garage. "He looks like he'd save your life."

As the gates begin closing, El looks back over the windshield of the car and watches as he mounts his bike and speeds away. Thinking back to how he stayed with her the whole night, even though she hated him for most of it (still does), she has to agree he kind of does look like a hero.


	5. The old Mike

**A/N: Hey, guys, sorry for the late update! In this chapter we find out more about Mike's past, and we get _some_ Mileven. I'm really, so very happy that you guys still like this. I love all of you! Xoxo.**

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Sunlight hits his eyelids sharply, and Mike groans painfully, pressing his fingers against his eyes as he peers through them, trying to see who dared to fling his curtains open when he's still in bed.

"Who the fuck let you in, Lucas?" He groans as his friend leans down to smirk closely at him.

"Get up!" Lucas exclaims, grabbing the pillow behind Mike's head and throwing it away carelessly. "We've got things to do!"

" _I_ 've got something for you, asshole!" Mike jumps, throwing an arm around Lucas' neck and wrestles his friend down on the bed, quickly yelping when the other boy pinches his side. The two begin slapping their hands on each other's body, laughing as they try to gain the upper hand.

Mike's annoyance is suddenly forgotten as his best friend gets his first laugh of the day.

.

.

.

"Yeah, of course, I understand," Nancy nods as she speaks with one of her clients on the phone, quickly leaning down to finish typing an e-mail to send it to her boss. She stands up from her desk and begins to walk aimlessly around her home office, nodding as she takes in her client's words. "But I need to finish some things here first, and I could only fly to Paris until next week."

"Nance," Mike begins while putting on a clean shirt as he walks into his sister's office, Lucas trailing behind him. "I need to borrow 400 dollars."

She holds a palm up, indicating her need of his quietness as she continues her conversation. "Yes, of course we'll close the deal!" She nods reassuringly, as if her client could see her.

"Fuck, _work_ this early?" Lucas whines as he watches the older Wheeler on the phone. Mike holds a finger up at him with a mischievous grin, and Lucas nods as he watches his best friend walk closer to his sister.

"Yes, we'll talk to the Head Office." Nancy nods, eying her little brother as he comes to stand in front of her, _way_ too close to be normal.

Just as her client begins to talk, Mike suddenly takes her phone away, slipping past her outstretched hands as he runs behind her desk. "Mike!" She snaps, trailing behind him as he rounds the desk and hides behind an arm chair. "Michael!" She snaps again, nearly screaming in frustration as he escapes her again, throwing her phone into Lucas' awaiting hands.

"Give it to me!" She exclaims angrily as the boy runs past her, dodging her hands and spinning around her.

"Don't give it to her, Lucas." Mike tells his best friend as he laughs against Nancy's desk, watching as his sister runs behind the boy.

Nancy's heart stops as Lucas presses the phone to his ear, nodding as he pretends to listen to her client. "Mm-hm," he hums with a serious face. "Of course, of course." He says with a feminine voice, making Mike lose his shit behind her.

"Lucas, Lucas, _don't talk_ , please," She pleads as she stretches her hands to him. He hums again, lifting a hand to rub his thumb against his middle and pointer finger in the universal sign of money. "In my purse, on the chair." She points to Mike, who stands up to rummage through her purse until he finds what he was looking for.

She lunges at Lucas again, the boy quickly hiding the phone behind his back as the older girl glares at him. "Give it to me, Lucas!" She snaps at the boy who is practically her other brother.

Mike grins, lifting the money so Lucas can see it, and then laughs as an overjoyed Nancy sighs in relief when the phone is back against her ear.

"Yes, of course." She says to her client when the woman's business voice is back.

"Thanks, sis." Mike presses a kiss to her head as he passes her, laughing as she slaps his face away with a furious glare.

"Mike," she stops him on his way to the door, pressing a hand to the phone's speaker. "Don't forget about dinner with Dad tonight."

Mike's eyes darken and his only response is a stiff nod, and she sighs sadly as she watches him go, returning her attention to the phone call.

.

.

.

"Are you sure it's here?" Mike asks Lucas as a bell rings somewhere inside the school.

"Yeah, I saw it in her agenda." His best friend responds with a quick nod as they watch a bunch of girls walk down the long steps of the building, their blue plaid skirts fluttering around their socketed knees.

Mike laughs, shaking his head in amusement as he observes the girls who throw curious looks in their direction. Both boys were outside a private high school, resting against Mike's bike as they wait for Lucas' _date_. The structure of the building is ancestral, the columns wide and sturdy, and the steps seem to be a mile long each. The school looks prestigious, similar to Mike's old high school (which he dropped out of, 5 months ago), and just for girls, it seems, judging by the lack of males in the waves of uniformed ladies.

"Besides," Lucas continues. "We're having lunch."

"But you don't have any money, Lucas." Mike laughs, turning to his friend.

"She told me she was paying." He shrugs, grinning unabashedly.

A girl with blonde pigtails passes in front of them, and she smiles brightly as she walks with her friends. "Hi." She waves at Mike.

"Hi." He waves back, recognizing her as El's little sister from the night before. He didn't know she studied here, and he wonders if that means her older sister does too.

"Look, that's her!" Lucas exclaims suddenly, jostling Mike's arm just as he was lighting a cigarette up.

"Where?" He asks through a puff of smoke, putting his lighter back inside the pocket of his leather jacket.

"There!" Lucas points up excitedly. "The stunning redhead with the purple bag!"

Mike looks up to see a redhead walking down the stairs, chatting happily with a brunette. He eyes the girl and nods as he accepts she's beautiful, a little pale in his opinion, but if what Lucas told him is right, then her attitude makes up for it. His eyes return to the brunette next to her and his gut clenches when he realizes _who_ she is.

"The one next to her is bubble bath girl, Lucas." He tells his friend. "I'm leaving."

"What? No, wait!" Lucas grabs his arm.

A couple feet away, Max gasps as her eyes land on the pair of boys at the bottom of the school steps. "El, look!" She grabs her best friend's arm. "That's the guy who stole my money."

"Which one?" She asks with furrowed brows as she looks around for any boy.

"The stalker one, next to the bike." Max points to where two guys are staring at them.

"Oh, no." El gasps as her eyes meet Mike's.

"What? Did he steal from you, too?" Max asks, still dragging her down, now closer to the boys.

"No, but his friend is the one who threw me into the pool, smashed James' car and got me in trouble with my mom." El told her with a frown.

"What? Why the hell am I hearing of this _now_?" Max hisses at her once they step down from the last step of the long staircase. Max lets go of her arm to walk up to Lucas, who meets her halfway.

"Hi." Lucas greets with a wide smile.

El stalks past them with a frown. "What are _you_ doing here?" She asks Mike once she's close enough to him.

"Hey, easy," He tells her as he throws his cigarette away, turning back to look at her with a wink. "I'm just accompanying my friend." He points at Lucas who is _literally_ charming her friend's panties off. "He's having lunch with that one."

"Well, _that one_ ," El points at Max, who is grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. "Happens to be my best friend." Mike eyes her with a smile, taking in her uniform, her chestnut curls that glint with the sunlight (again) and the adorable scrunch of her nose. "And yesterday, your friend stole all her money."

She's interrupted by Max's loud laughter, and she turns around to see her friend's twinkling blue eyes captured by the boy in front of her. El sighs, not knowing why Max would like a guy who stole from her.

"You owe me one," Mike mutters in her ear, startling her. She turns around to frown at him. "Why don't you act like a fun person for once and invite me somewhere nice for lunch?" He asks with a grin while he fingers the navy tie resting against her chest.

"Jerk." She tells him, slapping his hands away from her.

"Hey," Lucas says, suddenly behind her, as he touches her arm to gain her attention. "Play nice."

"You want to join us for lunch?" Max asks her with a giant smile on her face as Lucas throws an arm around her shoulder.

"Are you _seriously_ going to lunch with him?" El asks her incredulously.

"Well, he's paying, so I'm kind of getting some of my money back." Max answers with a laugh.

"Didn't you tell me _she_ was paying?" Mike asks Lucas with a chuckle.

"Well, I stole her money yesterday," Lucas admits, a bit sheepishly. "So, if _I_ pay, it's like _she's_ paying."

El rolls her eyes and walks away from them, while Mike laughs and reaches out to slap Lucas' shoulder.

"Hey!" Max grabs her arm before she can get too far away. "Don't be angry, okay? I'll call you later." The redhead reaches out and holds her in a hug, pressing a kiss to the brunette's head.

El smiles defeated, loving Max too much to stay mad at her, and she throws one last look at Mike before she walks away.

"Hey, wait," Mike tells her loudly, making her stop and turn around, along with a few gossipy girls who turn their head. "Just so they know I'm not a liar," He points at a grinning Lucas and at an expectant Max. "Didn't you and I take a bubble bath yesterday?" He asks loudly, almost shouting, with a smile, and she rolls her eyes as she hears a few gasps around her.

Mike stares at her as she walks away, laughing and admiring her body from afar as Max and Lucas laugh next to him.

"That's a yes, Lucas." He tells his best friend with a grin.

.

.

.

China clatters softly as the service lady lays a bowl of mashed potatoes on the dining table; usually, the sight of the melted cheese on top would lure Mike into spooning some of it on his plate, but that would require asking his dad to pass it to him, and at the moment, the last thing he wants to do is look up from his untouched food.

Ted smiles at her in a silent thanks, and then he clears his throat uncomfortably as he stares at his son across the table. "Why is Nancy taking so long?"

"You know her," Mike mumbles. "She's always working."

He looks up as his father takes a bite of his chicken cordon bleu, staring at him while he munches on it happily. "Where's mom?"

"Uh, on a trip with one of her girlfriends." Ted responds as he spoons mashed potatoes on his plate, unaware of his sons glowering until Mike's fork clatters sharply against his plate.

Mike stares at him with the dark eyes he inherited from his mother while he stands up, the chair dragging loudly against the floor. Ted stares at his son's back with a frown, a headache nearing him as he sighs deeply, putting the mashed potatoes' plate down again. He didn't know how Mike had gotten like that. With a shake of his head, he takes another bite of his chicken.

A few meters away, Mike twists the handle of the door, the shape familiar in his hand in a way that is no longer normal, and pushes the door open, standing in the doorway as he inspects what used to be his room with sharp eyes.

To his right, a wall dedicated solely to his awards and diplomas, the shelves full with Science Fair trophies and prizes of the competitions, from Spelling Bee's blue ribbons to MUN's Best Delegate plaques.

His eyes fall on the desk in the corner, the old computer covered in light dust while his books remain neatly stacked by their size, just like he used to like them, but not how he left them. If he stares hard enough, he can almost see himself sitting on the chair, back hunched as he worked on his homework, naively believing everything was good in his life.

 _Flashback_

 _Motorcycle pictures adorned the back of Mike's bedroom door, a wistful smile always lighting up his face every time he closed the door, always promising himself he would get one someday. Or at least, the day his mother finally allowed him to get one._

 _His hand ached from the grip he had on his pen, the ball point rolling against his notebook as he worked on his homework, copying words from his computer screen with concentrated eyes._

 _Suddenly, a bowl was placed next to his bent arm, his eyes landing on the little Nesquik balls as a pair of arms slid around his shoulders._

 _"_ _What are you getting on English, Mike?" Karen asked with a smile as she pressed her face against her son's._

 _"_ _Straight A, as always." He smiled at her, his dark eyes crinkling handsomely as his mom pressed a kiss to his cheek._

 _Her perfectly done hair brushed his profile as she leaned back, retreating her arms from around his neck and rubbing his back with a gentle hand. "I'm heading out for a bit," She informed him as he went back to his homework. "Do you need anything?"_

 _"_ _No. I might head out for a while, too. To take a break." He gestured to his messy desk, not looking up from his writing._

 _"_ _Well," She said, walking back to him and pushing a beany on top of his curls, teasingly pulling it down to cover his eyes for a minute. "Wrap up if you go out," she rubbed his shoulders with a smile as he laughed, lifting the beany from his eyes. "It's freezing out there."_

 _"_ _Yes, mom." He rolled his eyes fondly, removing the beany and throwing it to her back teasingly as she walked towards the door._

 _Karen looked back at her son with one final smile, taking her purple bag from the doorknob, and blew a kiss to him as Mike smiled back to his mom, twin pair of dark orbs meeting each other like countless of times before, but that time was meaningful, because it would be the last time Mike would stare into his mother's eyes without feeling a surge of hate through his veins._

 _._

 _His breath came out in harsh pants as desperation ran through him, hands moving as quickly as they could, shoving t-shirt after t-shirt, jeans and whatever he could get his hands on fast enough to get out of there in bags and a small suitcase._

 _His eyes landed on the weights that sat on his desk, grabbing them quickly and shoving them inside the bag with the reminder that exercise usually took his mind off of stress and school, and he would need the distraction in the days to come._

 _"_ _Karen," the family lawyer, Sam Owens, began questioning as Ted and Karen Wheeler sat in the living room, the latter pacing around franticly with a lost expression on her face as Nancy frowned with her arms crossed, listening to Owens closely as their sudden predicament came out of the blue. "Do you know if Mike had some issues with this man before?"_

 _"_ _No," She shook her head. "I didn't even know they knew each other."_

 _"_ _With his injuries and the allegations he made, Mike could be in serious trouble if we don't figure this out quick enough." Owens frowned with a concerned look at both parents and the sister present._

 _"_ _Don't you think I would help my son if I could?" She asked with a frown as she crossed her arms tightly._

 _Suddenly, Mike materialized behind Owens, coming into the living room from the shadows of the hallway and carrying multiple bags, his face void of any emotion it wasn't anger, his eyes a cold set of dark stones, solely focused on glaring at his mother._

 _"_ _Mike," Nancy breathed, standing up quickly as the conversation ceased, Ted holding his wife in what he hoped was support as Karen looked at their son with large eyes. "Don't you have anything to say?"_

 _"_ _Nancy, I'm coming to live with you."_

 _It wasn't a question, or a request; it was a decision, one he made without a second thought on his parents' opinion. His hard eyes never left his mother's, even when his words were directed to his sister, and his eyes got a new shot of anger as his mother kept quiet, only lowering her eyes to the floor after his hateful gaze was too much for her to bear._

 _"_ _Okay." Nancy nodded with a confused face, looking back at her parents with a light rise of her eyebrow. Ted was shocked, his face an open book as he stared at his only son with wide eyes._ _ **Who**_ _was this boy? Certainly not his; certainly not his Mike, who got straight A's and competed in nerdy things that Ted didn't understand but he supported, like those Science Fairs._

 _A tight knot in her throat, Karen refused to meet either of her kids' eyes, one pair blue and full with confusion and concern for her little brother, the other hot and heavy and_ _ **hard**_ _, full of hate, for_ _ **her**_ _. Her throat bobbed as she felt her youngest brush brusquely past her, his footsteps fading away quickly as he headed outside, the small suitcase rolling against the wooden floors, as if he was desperate to get away from his childhood home._

 _That day, Mike Wheeler died inside of him; gone was the boy who believed in a happy world, only worried about his grades and listening to every order his parents gave him. Instead, M rose to light; full of purpose and anger, not caring about a false future anymore. Why would he bother? Certain events opened his eyes to reality; he now knew the perfect family didn't exist. Gone was the boy who foolishly believed in his parents' sham of a marriage, and instead, he now saw love for what it really was. A fantasy._

 _The cliché of not believing in love because of a broken heart was true._

 _His heart did get broken by a woman, but from the one he least expected it from._

 _His mother._


	6. A challenging day

**A/N: So sorry for the late update you guys, but I had nothing written for this chapter and I've been super busy with school. Next chapter will be super thrilling and full of Mileven so hold on tight!**

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"So are you not going to ask how my date went?" Max asks in a pant as both girls jog around the small pond in the middle of the park, their ponytails smacking against their backs.

"How did your date go?" El questions in the dullest and flattest voice ever, her face a blank mask of boredom with small beads of sweat running down her forehead.

Max rolls her eyes with a scoff. "If you ask me like that then I won't tell you anything."

"Then don't tell me anything." El retorts, taking a different path than the one Max had just jogged into with an eye roll.

"El!" Max exclaims, running after her best friend with a frown.

A blond guy in a green singlet passes them, his eyes glued to the brunette who pays no mind to him, and Max looks back with excitement as he looks over his shoulder, still following El with his gaze.

"Oh my god, El," Max says as she falls into place with the brunette, looking over her shoulder to see the guy lowering his headphones, still looking in their way. "That hunk of a man just swallowed you whole with his eyes."

El looks over her shoulder to see an _alright_ guy looking at them, and when their eyes meet, he waves his fingertips at her with a smile, showing pearly whites and soft looking lips. But other than a raise of her eyebrows, she pays no mind to him, continuing to pump her legs to keep on with her workout, Max nearly tripping next to her when they ascend some steps while she waves back at the blond.

"El, he's still looking!" Max tells her excitedly. "Should we follow him?" But she might as well be talking to the tree on their right, because El just continues to jog, beads of sweat dampening the front of her tank top.

"Okay," Max finally exclaims, annoyed by the brunette's silent treatment. "Is there a reason why you're giving me the bitch face?"

"Because yesterday you blew me off to have lunch with that punk." El huffs.

Max stops, tugging on El's elbow to make her stop as well. "Hey, babe, you don't know him, alright?" The redhead's eyes are suddenly serious, sky blue sharp against hazel brown. "He's a kid with problems. He's got no money, and his father treats him awfully, but in spite of it all he's really nice and funny. He invited me to the races!" Max's face breaks into a wide grin, excitement flooding her expression at the thought of Lucas.

"What races?" El asks with a confused squint of her eyes.

"I told my mom I'm sleeping at your house tonight, so leave the key under the mat for me, okay?" The redhead replies instead, her hands gripping El's upper arms for reassurance.

"Max, I can't believe you're doing this to me." El laughs without humor, incredulity at her best friend's antics and the problem she might get her in with Mrs. Mayfield if anything goes wrong.

"Come with me!" Max exclaims with wide eyes, the idea of sharing such a thrilling adventure with the brunette making her wildly happy.

"No!" El shakes her head firmly with a frown. "I don't want to see him or his friend."

"Then I'm afraid we're not going to see each other often." The redhead shakes her head with a shrug of her uncovered shoulders.

"Why not?" El questions, her frown deeper.

"Because I'm dating him!" Max exclaims happily, her lips breaking into a wide grin, showing almost every tooth.

"Maxine!" El gasps as the redhead runs away from her, her arms stretched up into the air as delighted giggles escape from her lips, and she has no other option but to chase her.

.

.

.

El waves her fingers through her brunette locks as she moves the blow drier in her right hand, hot air hitting her damp hair while she stands in front of her mirror in a bath robe, fresh out of the shower.

"Jane?" She hears her mother call.

"Yes?" She screams over the loud sound of the blow drier, frowning at the use of her given name.

"Come here, please."

"Coming!" She turns the blow drier off, putting it on her vanity table as her feet slip into a pair of white fluffy slippers, and then she walks out of her room, going downstairs to find Terry sitting on the couch with her father pacing around next to her.

"Yes?" She makes her presence known, confusion clouding her face as she takes in the apparent seriousness in the room.

Her mother stands up, crossing her arms across her chest with a tight expression, her blond waves beautifully framing her face, while Hopper stands behind her, his blue eyes pinning El to the ground.

"Is there anything you want to tell us?" Terry questions, her tone implicating there _is_ something El should be telling her, but she racks her brain for any recent misbehaving she might have done and comes clean from it.

"No?" She offers, somehow hesitant in her response.

"The Hollands just called," Terry informs her, her voice as tight as her eyes, and El's stomach _flips_ as she remembers Mr. Holland and James and _M_. "Bruce's nasal sternum was broken; another inch and it would've pierced his brain!"

"Mom, I swear I had nothing to do with it!" El vows as she walks into the living room, clutching her mother's crossed arms with a pleading expression, her eyes finding Jim's over Terry's shoulder to assure him as well.

"It's true," Sara suddenly materializes behind her, still wearing her school uniform. "She didn't do anything." El is glad she decided to tell her sister everything about that night, because even though she was usually an annoying pain in the ass, she had her on her side now.

"And who brought you in on this? You be quiet!" Terry snaps, throwing a sharp look at her youngest, and receives a blue eyed glare in retort.

"Okay, calm down," Jim intermediates. "El, they said they want to report your friend, but they need his name first."

"But he's not my friend, dad; I just know they call him M." El shakes her head as she looks with worried eyes at her father.

"I can't believe this," Terry exclaims as she looks at her husband over her shoulder in astonishment. "Are you defending him, now? How long have you known him?!" Her mother frowns at her, her brown eyes staring at El as if she was another person.

"I'm telling you I don't know anything!" El retorts, shaking her damp hair frantically in denial. "I just know people call him by his nickname!" Which reminds her _who_ exactly was the one who told her said nickname.

She looks over her shoulder at her sister, who had grown uncharacteristically quiet and was biting her lip in uneasiness. "Sara, you know his name," she orders. "Tell them."

"Why are you dragging me in on this?!" The blonde exclaims, glaring at her sister with the same blue eyes their father had. "You think I'm a tell-tale?"

"You told me his name and why they called him M." She snaps at her sister, glaring back at her as she feels her mother shift behind her.

"Sara, the name." Terry orders in a hard tone as her youngest and second blonde in the family shakes her head firmly.

"Michael," El breathes, finally remembering the conversation between her and her sister in the back of the car that night. "Michael Wheeler, mom."

Her mother breathes out. "Call them, Jim," she turns to look at her husband and he nods, already reaching for the phone. "Tell them El had nothing to do with it." Her gaze softens as her hands caress El's cheeks, and she feels the tightness in her chest begin to dissolve.

"Great job, El," Sara hisses behind them, and she looks back to see her sister glaring at her in distress. "You just screwed up big time!" She turns around and runs away quickly, even as their mother yells for her and chases her up the stairs.

She breathes in, watching her father as he calls the Hollands and clears her name from the mess she suddenly got involved in, but even though she knows she did the right thing, she can't help but feel the weight of Sara's words on her shoulders, thinking of a certain boy who will have to face the charges the Hollands will undoubtedly press on his name.

.

.

.

"Yeah, my parents went out… yeah, she's here, but not for long," Sara snorts as she talks with one of her friends. "I think she'll be under water in about a week, because she just ratted out one of the most dangerous guys. The worst thing is that she _likes him_."

"Stop talking about me as if I wasn't here or hang up the phone." El tells her monotonously, rolling her eyes as she continues to flip the channels on the TV, trying to find anything to watch as Sara continues to gossip about her as they lounge in the living room.

"Yeah—Uh, wait, I've got another call," Sara lowers the phone from her ear to press a button on it, and with a beep, she pulls it against her ear as she answers with a sickly sweet tone. "Yes? Uh…" She looks at El and mouths _'It's for you'_. "Yeah, just a minute."

She passes the phone to her, and El puts the remote against her leg, the skin bare because of her pajama shorts. "Hello?" She says into the phone, and her heart speeds up as she recognizes the voice on the other end. "Oh, good evening, Mrs. Mayfield," She sits up straighter on the couch, no longer relaxed. "Max? Oh, Max is asleep," Sara throws her a confused look. "Do you want me to wake her up?" Her voice is already wavering, and she curses herself for never learning how to lie properly. "Yes," she nods with a huge breath out of her lungs. "Yes, of course I'll tell her… Good night."

She hangs up and she springs up from the couch, running to the little table on the corner where she had left her phone to charge. She calls Max and curses violently when it goes straight to voicemail.

"What's going on?" Sara asks her as she scrambles around to reach the phone El had thrown away.

"Do you know where the Races are?" El asks her as she tries to call the redhead again.

"The Siamese ones?" Sara perks up, the phone forgotten as she sits up with alert eyes on her sister. "At the Port! Can I go with you, please, please, please?!" She pleads as she jumps up and down, looking at her sister with puppy eyes.

"No way." She says in a hard voice, her hand slicing the air with finality and Sara grows quiet, not for the first time noticing how her older sister reminds her of their mother. "And don't tell anyone about this, Sara." She orders, and then she walks away, running up to her room to get dressed and go find her redheaded pain in the ass.

Sara plops down on the couch with a huff, picking up the phone and beeping her call back on. "Guess where my sister is going!" She squeals to her friend.

.

.

.

Smoke fills the air as she walks nervously, looking cautiously around her as a bike races past her, fluttering her hair and scarf. She swallows, cursing Max for the billionth time that night as her ears pick up the noise ahead of her.

She looks to her right and stops her fast pace as her eyes land on a bunch of knick knacks in a corner. Candles are lit on the ground, the wax dripping from them as they illuminate the litter of dying flowers lying around. A few jackets and a helmet hang from a rack nailed into the wall, right under the faces of unknown guys in pictures. As her eyes run over it all curiously, her breath comes to a stop as she reads the message on the wall, painted in white large letters.

 ** _WE REMEMBER YOU_**.

An altar.

For the dead bikers.

She swallows again, and she blinks away from it as she continues her walk, the reminder of danger in this place waking her senses again.

A lot of people come into her view as she walks out of the alley, cheering and laughter meeting her ears as her eyes detect leather and colorful hair, the unknown crowd so different from the one she's used to.

She walks further in, dodging passing bikes and ignoring the few looks from boys as she walks past a small group of them, and she breathes in relief as she spots a familiar head of red hair.

Max laughs as Lucas lifts her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he presses noisy kisses to her ear. "Lucas, stop!" She squeals, her skin bursting in goosebumps as he continues smooching her. He presses his lips to hers, and she kisses him back with ardor, their tongues meeting messily as she feels a familiar warmth pooling around her lower stomach. But destiny has other things in mind, because as soon as they open their lusty eyes, she looks behind him, over his head and she spots a familiar figure walking towards them. "El?" She frowns confusedly. "El!" She screams, waving a hand in the air as she meets the brunette's eyes. Lucas puts her down with a grunt, turning around to see the petite girl stop in front of them.

"What a surprise!" She squeals as she throws her arms around her best friend. "I'm so glad you came!"

"Why is your phone off?" El asks her immediately as a way of greeting. "Your mom called."

"What?" Max asks as her body freezes. "And what did you tell her?"

"That you had fallen asleep, and I don't know why, but she believed it." Max's smile is triumphal, looking at Lucas with a grin as he smiles back. "She said you have a blood test tomorrow and she's picking you up at 7 am. Don't be late, please," El grabs her arm with a concerned look. "I don't want to have problems with your mom, okay?"

"No, c'mon, stay!" Max pleads as El turns around with the intention of going home now that she had delivered the message to Max, but she shakes her head in denial.

"Hey, stay," Lucas reaches out and takes a hold of her elbow. "We're getting pizza after."

El's face turns into a scowl as she shakes her arm free of his hold. "I doubt I like a pizza from the same place you do."

Max scowls at her as Lucas goes ' _aww_ ' with a fake-pout, not even fazed by his girlfriend's best friend's antics.

"Well, well, if it isn't the untamed little filly."

Her spine goes rigid as she hears the now-familiar voice behind her, Lucas' handsome face melting into a smirk as Max gives her a devilish grin.

She turns around and is met with Mike's smirk, his dark eyes on her as he sits on his bike in all his leather-jacket glory. "Come to see me race?" He asks her with a taunting grin.

"I didn't even know you'd be here." She rolls her eyes with a huff, hating the way her stomach summersaults inside of her.

"Then why are you as red as a beetroot?" He asks with a knowing lopsided smirk, his hands clutching the handles of his bike.

"The only thing you make me do is laugh." Her mouth purses as she sucks her cheeks in raising anger.

"Oh, yeah?" He asks amusedly as he gets off of his bike and stands in front of her, all swag and bad-boy vibes.

"Yeah," She licks her lips, nodding as she stares up at him. "We'll see if you're so smug in Court when they call you in, because today I said you were the one who broke Mr. Holland's nose." His face loses the amusement and his smirk dissolves into a grim line.

"You bitch!" Lucas gasps behind her, separating himself from Max to stand threateningly behind her, but Mike stops him with a hand on his shoulder, El nearly trapped in the middle.

"Hey, hey, ease up, Lucas." He tells his best friend with a squeeze as Max stares at El in worry, coming to stand next to her and grasping her hand in hers as the brunette looks at the boys with startled eyes.

A few meters away, Stacey and Cassey stare at the two new girls, the auburn haired one detecting something between M and the brunette who looks _so_ out of place in jeans and a green bomber jacket.

"M, another offense and you'll go to prison." Lucas reminds him worriedly, reciting his lawyer's words. "She'll fuck you up!"

"Hey," Mike grounds him, taking Lucas' head in between his hands as he stares into his best friend's eyes with sudden control of the situation. "That is not going to happen, okay?" Lucas swallows, but seems calmer as Mike pats his cheek gently, appeasing his anger.

"The day Court calls me to make a statement," he says loudly, still looking at Lucas but meaning for his words to reach the girls' ears too. "This nice girl will say I did nothing." He turns around, looking at El with a smirk again. "You know why?"

"Why?" She questions as he rounds her, standing closely against her, his chest brushing her shoulder as Lucas and Max watch the exchange.

"Because that day you'll be so crazy about me that you'll do anything to save me." He murmurs with a lopsided grin, his dark eyes staring deep into hers with a solid knowingness that scares El a little.

Watching the intimate discussion with jealousy, Stacey walks with sure thumps of her heeled boots in their way, wanting to make it clear who she was and who M was to her.

"THE RACE IS STARTING!" The announcer with a megaphone screams into it on top of the platform as a whistle is blown loudly somewhere around them, a few bikes roaring past. "BIKERS, GET INTO PLACE! THE RACE IS STARTING!" A few girls with neon flash lights swing the lights around to alert the crowd, lighting the bikers who are getting in line as the people begin to vibrate with excitement.

"Want to ride behind me?" Mike murmurs into her ear as she watches the whole show.

"Never in my life." She tells him without looking at him, and he nods at the rejection, walking away to get on his bike.

"M," Stacey calls as she walks into their circle, leather jacket accentuating her curves and her dark make up giving her a sultry air. "Will you take me?" She asks as she twirls the wide belt in her hands.

"Get on." Mike nods, jerking his chin towards his bike, and he looks at El who's watching them with crossed arms as Stacey gets on behind him. "When you stop being scared, you'll have fun." He tells her with an incline of his chin, noting the way she fumbles with the end of her unwrapped scarf.

"I see you're not wearing a belt." Stacey says, and when she tears her eyes away from Mike's, El discovers her words are directed at her. "In case you didn't know, this place is for Siamese girls only. So, race or fuck off."

"Oh god, what a cow." El says under her breath with an eye roll.

"What did you say?" Stacey snaps behind Mike.

"That I'm racing now." El says loudly, fighting a laugh as Max snickers with Lucas and Mike chuckles.

"Well, then?" Stacey challenges, lifting her own belt in the air.

El looks at her, her mind working 30 miles per minute, and as Mike stares at her with _something_ in his eyes, waiting for her response, she looks at Max and decides to be bold for once in her life.

"Give me your belt." She tells her best friend as she tugs on the black belt around the redhead's hips.

"What, are you crazy? No!" Max exclaims, gripping El's wrists in concern. She ignores Max and succeeds in untying the belt from her, bunching it in her hands and looking back at Mike once she's done. He raises his eyebrows at her with an impressed expression, looking her up and down as Stacey scowls, and then he drives on with an extended hand to snatch her scarf from her neck, throwing her a smirk over his shoulder as he races away.

"Shit!" She curses, her hand against her exposed neck as she watches them speed away.

"Hey," A bike stops behind her, the driver eyeing the belt in her hands. "Get on."

El looks at him with uneasiness, mentally asking herself if she's really doing this.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Max voices her thoughts, watching as El seems to have a mental discussion with herself, and Lucas stares at the boy with distrust. "No!"

"C'mon," the biker says impatiently. "I don't have all night."

El looks at her with a calculating look in her eyes, debating for a few seconds more, before she walks on and hops on behind the boy, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle.

"Good luck!" Max screams at her with a concerned face as Lucas waves, and the last thing she thinks as the bike's motor roars under her, is that she's going to need it.


	7. The race, the asshole and the fish

**A/N: Heeeeeeey! I'm back! This chapter has been ready since yesterday, but FF has been weird and not letting me post because they had some network issues? Whatevs. Here's a long ass chapter! ENJOY THE MILEVEN!**

* * *

She wasn't going to lie, it was scary. From her place on the back of the bike, she watches the crowd, their faces bright and red as they yell their excitement, pumping their fists in the air and roaring away like an enormous pack of wild lions.

Her loose hair flutters against her face as her gut and mind scream at her to get down and run back to Max and the safety of the redhead's arms, but something inside of her pleads to be let out, to let the new adventure swallow her whole. For once in her life, El wants to be wild and surprising, to break free of the good girl cage her parents have raised her in. Also, the look in Mike's face after he sees her pull up with Troy is worth the fright.

He watches in silent anger as Troy pulls up next to him, his booted foot on the floor to keep his balance while El watches in pure awe as a Siamese girl snorts some white powder from the bike next to her.

Mike wraps the pink scarf he snatched from the brunette's neck around his right wrist, tying it tightly to prevent it from getting loose and getting in his way while the race is on.

El watches with a frown as Troy hands his helmet to one of his friends who had walked in between the bikes to take the item from Troy's hands, slapping the racer on the shoulder as goodbye. She eyes the rest of the racers and her heart sinks into her stomach as she notes how none of them are wearing a helmet, the thing that, _you know_ , will _literally_ prevent them from _cracking their skull open and dying_ if they happen to have an accident.

She looks around and her eyes meet Mike's, who's watching her with a slow grin and intense eyes that seem to sparkle in the darkness of the night. She holds his stare for a few heartbeats, noting how his curly hair blows into the wind just like hers, and she breaks the stare as the girls start to get off the bikes.

She frowns, watching in confusion as they all stand behind the bikes. Wasn't the whole purpose of the Siamese races to ride behind the bikers? Why were they getting off? Nonetheless, El gets off of the bike after Troy throws a look at her, as if telling her to get off already so the race can start.

"BELTS OUT!" The announcer yells into the megaphone.

She stands behind Troy as the crowd cheers wildly, the other girls flinging the belts in the air or snapping them menacingly at the other girls to put some challenge in the air in behalf of their respective bikers. El just trembles as she catches sight of Max and Lucas, who are in the front, next to a curly haired guy who she finds somewhat familiar, a straight haired kid who puts his hands next to his mouth and screams out along with two other boys, cheering for the shaggy haired asshole who is looking at her over his shoulder. Mike's friends.

She moves when the other girls return to the bikes, and she stops when she sees that they're not getting on the traditional way, but _backwards_. She notices that her hands are shaking as she grips the sides of the bike to lean her back against Troy's, her legs dangling of the sides and her feet trying to find something to plant on, trying to find some leverage.

Troy reaches a hand back and grabs the belt from her, making her panic for a second before she notices Stacey doing the same, passing the belt around her and Mike, and buckling it against her stomach. Troy hands her an end, and then the other once he's inside the safety circle the belt forms around them. Her eyes meet Mike's over her shoulder as she buckles the belt tightly, squeezing herself tightly with it for extra safety, and he raises his right hand to rub _her_ scarf to his nose, making sure she sees him sniff it.

She purses her lips and gives him a glare, which he answers with a wide grin, before he takes his attention from her to look in front of him, were the designated girls are already lighting the way.

Engines roar angrily as the announcer starts counting, and she feels the vibrations of the bike under her rattle her very heart, her stomach a mess as she clutches the part of the belt that is against Troy's stomach. She takes big gulps of air, feeling like her chest will collapse from the tightness, and as the announcer screams go, so does she.

She screams out as she feels the bike lurch forward, the cold air rushing strongly past her ears, hitting her face and making her hair tangle. She watches as the crowd runs to chase the bikers, screaming and cheering on for their supported racer, until they stop running and all she sees is Max's static face growing smaller by the second.

Mike's senses are sharpened, his ears and eyes focused on the path he has to take, on the way his bike vibrates with speed and the way his hands grip the handles tightly, everything under control for him to win tonight.

His main challenge, Troy, races head to head with him, both taking the lead easily in the swarm of racers trying to beat each other out, but none are a threat to Mike.

"C'mon!" He screams at Troy, Stacey securely behind him, and he pushes turns the handles of his bike to go faster, liking the way adrenaline pumps through his veins. His hair is pinned back by the air hitting his face, the curls pushed back and flying freely into the air.

El's throat bobs with her gulps, trying to swallow down the nerves and fear she's feeling, her eyes stinging with the rush of air hitting her face. She watches in shock as a biker starts cutting into another racer's way, trying to throw him off his game, and the she gasps in horror as he reaches a leg out and pushes the other racer off, throwing him off of balance and making him crash to the floor, along with the girl behind him.

"WHEELS UP!"

El screams again as the bike's front wheel is lifted suddenly, her body slightly dangling dangerously off of it, and she closes her eyes against the closeness of the pavement, the loud roaring of the bikes, the cold air, and the danger she got herself into downing on her.

Mike grunts with the effort of keeping his bike up, along with maintaining control of it and the fast speed he had been keeping, his breath coming out in huffs as Stacey smiles at the rush of it all, the danger licking at her feet, giving her the adrenaline she craved for.

El gasps as the bike fell on both wheels again, returning to its fast pace, but she closes her eyes again as the lighting girls point the neon lights at an upcoming curve, the sharp turn making El's stomach lurch again with fear.

"Troy!" Mike screams, lifting his front wheel again when they are indicated to, coming back from the sharp curve and speeding up as the final lap comes into view. "C'mon!"

Troy huffs, his sharp eyes stonily focused on the crowd of people who is still far away from them, marking the end of the race. El whimpers against her will when she feels the hum of the bike roar louder, gaining speed as Troy turns the handles to try to gain the upper hand. She can hear the crowd cheering loudly as they get nearer to the end, and she almost cries from relief as she spots Max's red hair and the tall dark boy that is Lucas next to her. She was beginning to feel at ease when all of the sudden, a bike stumbles a few spots behind them, the boy losing control of the handle and crashing down sharply on the ground.

With alert eyes, she watches as the bike falls on top of the couple, smashing them on the pavement and skidding away from them with loud metal-against-ground sounds. She gasps as she watches the girl roll around the floor, her head bleeding as she hits the ground multiple times, before she comes to a deadly stop.

"STOP! STOP!" El screams at Troy as she pulls her hands free from the belt, alerting the boy. "STOP!"

Mike frowns as El's frantic voice reaches his ears through the loud hum of his bike, the loud screaming of the crowd, and his own inner buzzing at the prospect of winning the race. He pulls on the brakes, a few feet away from the finish line but close enough so he can see his friend's faces as Max notices something's wrong with El.

"What the fuck?!" Troy snaps furiously as he stops a few feet away from the end of the racing line, El unbuckling her belt without a glance back at the boy.

She jumps down from the bike as she notices the girl isn't moving.

Abruptly, siren wails start echoing through the area, police red and blue lights coming through the entrances to the plaza, scaring the crowd away from the illegal races as they start running.

The boy who had crashed stumbles up, crawling towards his bike as a few people run to help the fallen couple. El looks around the mayhem and notices a few caught people, their hands in the air as police officers start running into the dispersing crowd.

Stacey springs away from Mike, running away as quickly as her heeled boots allow her, leaving him alone to stare around frenetically as he watches Lucas drag a screaming Max away, and the rest of his friends flying away from the scene. He ponders over racing away right now, or snatching El away as she runs to the fallen girl.

"Leave the bike and go help her, you asshole!" She screams at a boy who instead of helping the unmoving girl, begins to lift the yellow and battered bike from the ground, the owner lying next to it with gasps as blood runs down his face from a gash on his forehead.

"C'mon!" Troy yells at her as he looks around the chaos, but she ignores him and crouches down next to the girl. "C'mon, girl!"

"Don't move her!" She tells the few people who are around the girl as they start to grab her limp body. "Don't move her! Call an ambulance!" She hears Troy curse and then he's leaving, racing away and dodging police officers as they start to round up on them.

The people who were helping the girl sprint up, running away as an officer spots them, and El can only scream in fright as he grabs her arm, trying to pull her up as she eyes the hand cuffs in his belt, and she buckles against him to free herself. With a scream, she only succeeds in falling to the floor, the man leaning in to press her arms against her chest to pin her there as he fumbles around for the handcuffs, but suddenly he's kicked away from her.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, get on!" Mike urges her as he pulls up next to her, extending a hand out to help her up without getting off of his bike. A few photographers run around the scene, taking photos of the arrested racers, of the escapees and of the bikes, specifically, _the license plates._

El hops on behind him, not caring if she pins his leather jacket down as she wraps her arms tightly around his middle. "Cover the plate, cover the plate!" He tells her urgently as he spots a photographer in their way, swerving a little to dodge his camera as El reaches behind her with an arm and flattens her palm against the bike's back plate. Mike blinks quickly as the flash of the camera blinds him momentarily, and he manages to dodge all officers even if they run to stop him.

He races away with El perched up behind him, her face against his back once they're out of the chaos, but an incoming police car presses on the breaks as the officer spots them, and Mike turns the handles to quicken their pace, speeding away as the car turns sharply, and begins to chase them.

.

.

.

"Okay, hide here!" Mike urges her as they stop, miles away from the race scene, but closer to the bay.

She hops down from the bike, running to the brick waist-length wall that's built on the corner leading into the narrow road.

"I'll come back for you when I shake them off!" He yells over his shoulder as the sirens of the police car get nearer, and she jumps over the small wall before he races off, taking the bridge and pressing on the gas just in time for the red and blue lights coming in hot.

El lands on her stomach with a huff, wincing when her chest squishes a muddy substance, but she keeps quiet while she hears the wheels of the car crush some pebbles as they take the bridge too, chasing after the fast biker that has the lead.

She gulps in the air that she was holding, and then she stops trying to push herself up with her hands, noticing for the first time the fetid smell that her nostrils are receiving. Her eyes widen, her fingers clench and then she's wailing, sprinting up in one swift movement. "Ew, ew, ew, ew!" She grimaces, flinging her hands in the air in disgust as she feels her t-shirt stick to her chest because of the smelly dampness on it. She looks down and, even through the darkness, she can definitely make out the squished blobs of what she thinks is dog poop smeared all over her shirt.

She jumps over the wall, landing on the ground with a grunt, and starts wiping her hands frantically on the brick surface. The jagged texture rasps at her palms, but it helps to take off the smears of shit on them.

She hears a loud bark somewhere behind her, and with a yelp, she's jumping around the small wall again, landing on her knees and smearing the _fucking_ poop all over the sleeves of her bomber jacket, hiding from the huge Rottweiler that had started running her way when it spotted her, no doubt the owner of the pile of _literal_ crap she was laying on.

"Shit." She sighs heavily and resigned when her nose detects the awful smell again.

.

.

.

The sound of his bike is softer this time, no longer racing away because of the dumb officers he had managed to lose. His eyes squint into the darkness, the bike slowing down to a stop under the lone lamppost on the other side of where he left her.

"El?"

 _Silence._

"El?" He says again, a fleeting thought of her being caught flicking through his mind.

"I'm here." He can hear her voice, but she's nowhere in sight.

"Where?" He frowns, looking around.

"Here." Her hand rises from behind the brick wall.

"What are you still doing down there? Get out, c'mon." His hands squeeze the handles on his bike, his eyes finding the scarf that managed to stay on his wrist the whole night.

"No," she still doesn't appear. "There's a huge scary dog out there."

"There's no dog here, El." He chuckles amusedly, looking around to prove his point.

"And I can't go out anyway."

"Why not?" He turns the bike off but keeps the light on, his eyes glued to the place her voice is coming from.

"…Because I'm embarrassed." She admits in a small voice.

He grins, killing the light in the process, the lamppost the only light source for his eyes now. "Alright, well, I'm leaving now then."

He roars the engine to life again, the loud sound nearly drowning her sudden panicky voice. "No! No! Wait!"

"What?" God, he _really_ loves messing with her.

"…Promise me you won't laugh."

"I promise." His smile simmers down, but amusement is still all over his face as he waits for her to make her grand appearance.

Her fingers slide across the small wall, leading her palms to press on it as her _smeared_ face finally pops out, along with the rest of her body as she jumps out of her hiding place. His amusement grows, his eyes ranking all over her in curiosity as he inspects the spots on her clothes and skin.

"What did you do, babe?" He _really tries_ not to smile, trying to keep his promise of not laughing. "Are you covered in mud?" He straddles the bike with his feet on the ground to rise himself up, peering over the brick wall to see its other side.

"It's dog shit." She responds monotonously, lounging back with her elbows on the wall, looking way too cool for someone whose shirt was covered in animal feces.

"That's _dog shit_?!" Okay, he just broke their promise. "Oh my God, no way! This is too beautiful to be true!" He laughs, a huge (pun intended?) shit-eating grin splitting his face to show his pearly whites.

"I knew I couldn't trust you," she snaps, walking towards him. "Your promises are worth the same thing on me now." _Shit._

"Hey, hey, hey," He grabs her arm, careful of not touching any smears on her jacket. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" He asks her, pushing her away from him, his face serious for a change.

"To get on the bike!" She frowns, staring at him with confused eyes as he crosses his arms across his chest.

"Are you crazy?" He stares back, his eyes dark and sparkling and _he's so fucking handsome but such an ass at the same time, damnit!_ "You won't think I'm letting you on my bike while you're covered in shit."

"You're kidding." Her eyes widen even more than they naturally are, staring at him with a little bit of fear in them, but he's never left her behind, even when she was being a major Christ-the-redeemer-sized pain in the ass. So, being the amazing, courteous gentleman he is, he offers a solution.

"Look," he tells her as he gets off of his bike, removing his leather jacket. "I can lent you my jacket and you can cover up with it, but first you have to remove all those stinky clothes because there's no way in hell you're getting on my bike like that. C'mon."

She glares heatedly up at him, her cheeks flushed already, and she snatches the jacket from his extended hand, stalking away in angry stomps that make him laugh. "Oh, fuck!" He pinches his nostrils with laughter as she brushes past him, walking back to his bike and hoping on it while she stops a few feet behind, her back to him. "You smell disgusting!"

"Look Mike—"

"I like how that sounds…" He says thoughtfully, surprising himself when he finds it doesn't bother him when _she_ calls him by his real name. "It's the first time you say my name."

"I swear if you turn around—", she cuts herself off as she slips her stained t-shirt off, careful of not smudging shit all over her face, and throws the garment on the ground, on top of her ruined jacket. "I'll jump on you and smear shit all over you a _nd_ your bike. And _I_ know how to keep my promises." Her skin erupts in goosebumps as her bare arms, stomach and chest are hit with the cold wind, her bra the only thing between her upper torso and the air. She turns her head as she unbuttons her pants, and is instantly exasperated when she catches him looking over his shoulder at her. "Don't look!"

"Oh, get over yourself," He turns his head quickly, a tiny smile appearing on his face at the thrill of getting caught. "I'm not interested in looking…" His hand reaches out to move one of the bike's mirrors lower, lower, _there_ , just in time to catch her shimming out of her disgusting pants, the movement making her matching pink panties, _god_ , slide down just enough for him to have a glimpse of the top of her butt cheeks.

"If you'd hurry up, I'd appreciate it." He simmers down while he takes in the silhouette of her body, fondly remembering the night they took a _bath_ and he saw her for the first time. He takes in the curve of her waist, how it widens to meet her round hips and the shapely thighs, the long slim legs, and then his eyes go up her body again, taking in the thin straps of the pink bra around her shoulders that are suddenly covered with black fabric, and then he takes in how her ass still peeks through the hem of his jacket - _god, his_ jacket—and then—and _then_ she's turning around, her hands holding the leather close around her body; then her eyes find his through his side mirrors, and he can only advert his eyes as hers turn into a glare, fury clouding those Bambi orbs he's getting used to seeing.

"I told you not to look, you disgusting pig!" She thumps his back as she slips behind him on the bike, his shoulders shaking in laughter when, in spite of just chewing his ass, she automatically presses closer to him.

"Hey, I didn't turn around, did I?" He teases as he turns sideways so he can look at her face, finding her closer than he expected (still welcomed, though), and his eyes drop to her pouting mouth without his permission. "But I have to tell you," He _really_ can't help himself. "You've got a great ass." He murmurs it, nearly bumping their noses together, feeling her breath almost mingling with his own, before she huffs, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"I would've loved smearing shit all over your face—"

"Shhh…" He interrupts her, holding a finger to his lips and then to hers, her eyebrows furrowing instantly, and if he _really_ weren't hearing something, he would have taken more pleasure in the fact that she didn't remove his finger from her lips. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" She breathes against his finger, already distracted by him ( _Damnit, El!_ ).

"There's the huge dog!" He raises his eyebrows, pointing at something over their shoulders, and that's when she hears the loud barking behind them. She turns around and gasps when she sees that Rottweiler from before running full speed towards them, its ears flopping against his head and he's _nearing_ them.

"No! Run," She wraps her arms around him, squeezing him in fear as the dog gets closer. "Run! Let's go!"

He decides to mess with her a little more, revving the engine but not moving an inch from their place, enjoying the way she lifts her legs around his hips and tightens her arms around him, her frightened voice loud against his shoulder. "Alright, c'mon! Lift your legs or it'll bite you!"

"No! Mike, run!"

"It'll bite you!" The Rott is nearly at the back wheel when he finally pulls away, her scream mingling with his loud laughter as they race away from the angry dog that chases after them for a few feet before it gets bored.

It shouldn't feel this way. She thinks if she wasn't affected by his boyishness and handsomeness, she would absolutely hate him, like she claims she does. But if she's being honest (and with her own self, she has to), there's a part of her that never hated him; not even at the beginning and after the whole James thing.

When she holds him tightly as they race away into the night, as she feels his back contract with the deepness of his breathing, as she feels his head turn around a little to assure himself she's still secure, and as she feels herself be nothing but _happy_ and _serene_ and all kinds of words that can describe the amazing and calm feeling she's experiencing at that moment, she feels herself _falling_. She's not that obtuse to think it's love (he nearly drowned her, for fuck's sake!), but she's definitely attracted to him, she feels those damn butterflies her mother and Sara are always cooing about, she feels him pull at _something_ inside of her, and that scares her.

.

.

.

"Thanks for bringing me home." She tells him softly as she unwraps herself from him, leaning back enough to swing her legs off from the bike.

"So, I'll pick you up tomorrow?" He asks her, _mostly_ joking as she begins to walk to the steps leading to the door of her house. "What time?"

"Sure," She turns around with a smile as he turns the bike off and hops off, walking up the steps to stand close to her. "And we can get chased by the police again."

"Of course." He agrees teasingly.

She gives him a final chuckle before she turns around with every intention of going inside her house, but he stops her with a tug on her arm. She turns around to teasingly tell him to fuck off already, but her words die on her throat the minute his eyes meet hers.

His gaze is dark and unmoving, his face intense. He tugs on her again to make her get down to the step he's on, their chests nearly brushing together. His hand trails down her arm to her wrist, and then he's holding her hand, the skin soft against his rougher palms. He brings her closer, her eyelids fluttering from his nearby position as their breaths now _do_ mingle together. He watches her cheeks turn pink, splotches of crimson flushing her face and neck, and _lower_ , made visible by her barely-existing outfit, and he starts to forget what the hell he was supposed to be saying when he decided to mess with her again. _This girl… what is she doing to you, Mike?_

Her scarf brushes the skin of her waist as he puts his hand there, under his leather jacket, and she will later admit to herself that in that moment she felt a _gush_ of _something somewhere_ , but for now, she settles with breathing harder, her lips parting as he gets impossibly closer.

"You were a very brave Siamese," he whispers in her ear, his hand now on her ribs and his thumb against the beginnings of her bra. "Are you going to report me?"

"Uh-hu." She replies breathily, words failing her as she lets herself enjoy the warmth and callousness of his hand against her soft skin, her stomach against his and his breath hitting her neck.

"Uh-hu?" He questions.

"Yeah."

"You sure?" His whispers are getting quieter, the moment growing even more intimate, and if she were in her right mind, she would've been a little afraid of someone catching them like this on the steps of her house; her wearing her underwear and his jacket, and him, a stranger ( _cute_ stranger, but still stranger for everyone else) standing there and nearly absorbing her into his pores. But she _wasn't_ in her right mind at the moment, so who would judge her?

"You promise me?" He continues to whisper, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, which makes her skin erupt in goosebumps again, and she feels the pebbles inside her bra, and she can't help but close her eyes. He leaves her waist for her face, his fingers pushing her hair back to bare her ear and profile, leaving the place where her jaw meets her neck exposed. He leans down and presses his lips to the spot, her eyebrows furrowing in pleasure at once when she feels the warmth radiating from his mouth on her skin. His lips press against her jaw next, then to her cheek and then they trail little pecks to the corner of her mouth. Her lips hand open in anxious waiting and she wants _something, anything_ to happen.

His heart is speeding up, his breathing loud like hers, and he feels arousal building up inside him just from the feel of her alone, vulnerable and soft and pretty and all kinds of beautiful, but he has to _stop_. He nuzzles their noses together, their foreheads against each other's, and he's tempted to give in into his urges and just let gravity do its job, moving half a centimeter to press their lips together in the hungry kiss they're both craving, but he's always been stronger than he gives himself credit for.

He leans back and watches her flushed face, her lips parted and dry, and her eyes closed while she waits for him to _deliver_ , but he already feels the grin tugging on the corners of his lips and the rush of air that hits her mouth when he chuckles is enough to wake her up from her daze.

"Oh, El, El, El," he tsks, shaking his head as her mouth snaps closed and she glares at him, her pretty eyes full of fire (and not the good kind anymore). "I'm a pig, I'm an animal and an asshole, but you'd let me kiss you still." Her breathing turns labored again (and not the good kind either), her teeth clench and he can s _ee_ the angry embarrassment ooze out of her. "You're inconsistent."

"And you're a dickhead!" She snaps heatedly, turning away from him and running up the steps in anger.

"You had your mouth open like a fish waiting for me to kiss you—"

She cuts his teasing with a good-earned slap, his head jerking to the side from the force behind it, and his cheek reddens instantly. "Oh..." He shakes his head once, brushing away the sting and he feels annoyed in an instant. "I want my jacket back now." He demands and that makes her stop.

He watches her shake his jacket off furiously, nearly tripping with it in her hastiness of taking it off, and then she throws it at him as hard as she can, hoping that it'll blow him away (impossible, but she can only hope) to the next street. _How could she think she was falling for the asshole?_

"Hey, fishy lips," His amusement is back, apparently, as she opens the door of her house. "Won't you kiss me goodnight?"

"Go to hell!" She hisses viciously, her lips pulled back in a snarl, and she slams the door closed behind her.

He chuckles to himself as he picks his fallen jacket from the ground, watching through the glass on the front door the way her hips move and her ass jiggles as she walks away into her house quickly.

.

.

.

With careful and quiet footsteps, (stealthy like a ninja, Steve Harrington would've said) she walks across the hallway, pushing the door of her room open. She channels her inner bunny as she sprints on the floor, careful of not making the floor creak as she places her keys on her vanity and her shoes at the foot of her bed.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when a person abruptly sits up on her bed from under the covers. "El!" Max whispers harshly. El shushes her with a quick glance at her bedroom door, cursing herself for not closing it as Max reaches out to turn her bedside lamp on, illuminating the redhead's face. "I was worried out of my ass! Your mom came in and kissed me goodnight thinking I was you!" El breathes in, pressing her hands against her mouth in fear at the thought of her mother noticing her absence. "Why the hell are you naked?" Max frowns as she stands up, the covers tangling around her legs.

"It was M, right?" Both girls startle as Sara's head pops into her sister's room. "M took your clothes off." She giggles, bouncing her blonde eyebrows up and down as the pair of older girls shush her, making hand motions for her to enter the room and close the door behind her.

"Shut up! You're going to wake mom up!" El whisper-shouts at her, walking to pull her pajamas out from behind her pillow as Sara takes a seat on her bed, next to Max who's looking at her expectantly. "I'm going to shower."

She walks away from her sister and her best friend, walking inside her own bathroom and turning the lights on, glancing on the mirror to see the two girls staring at her.

"It smells like shit. Why does it smell like shit in here?" Sara asks Max, who sniffs the air and shrugs back at the blonde with a grimace.

El can't help but laugh, _laugh_ and _laugh_ even when both Max and Sara frown at her in the mirror.

 _That asshole._

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.

.

"Sorry," Mike says as he closes the door of her room behind him, taking his shirt off and slipping his shoes off as he eyes her back and the smoke coming from her. "I got held up by the police."

"That's bullshit," Stacey retorts as she stubs her cigarette on the ashtray by her bed, not bothering to look behind her as he slips on the other side of the bed. "I saw you go with that little stuck-up mouse." She blows the last of her smoke in his face as he kisses her shoulder, sneaking his hand around her black-panties-covered hip and rubbing circles on her stomach.

He lunges at her, taking her mouth in a lusty kiss as he flips her onto her back, pinning her arms over her head and grinding his hips with hers, taking his frustrations and previous arousal on her.

Stacey sighs in want, gripping his bicep as he kisses her neck, trailing her fingertips down his arm until she feels a soft material on his wrist. Mike distracts her with another kiss, rolling his tongue with hers as he keeps his eyes open, looking at El's scarf wrapped around his wrist, which prompts him to think of her throughout the night, not even caring if Stacey notices.

 _Little ugly-faced fishy._


	8. A kiss and a slap

**A/N: Hey guys. I'm so sorry for not updating for nearly three weeks but I've been dying over school :( I really thought I had it light this year because last semester wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but school really is kicking my ass. So much that I got sick last Saturday and couldn't even finish my project on time. I had to write 40 pages for a book review, check this, by _hand_ , and I haven't actually finished; I got saved because my teacher got into a car crash and has a cast on his leg so he's unable to go to school. I feel terrible for feeling so happy over it, but I'm really not that sorry lol. SCHOOL SUCKS MAJOR ASS! Thank you to everyone who reviewed this while I didn't update, especially Lili who reviewed like four times begging for an update. I'm so sorry sweetheart! You have no idea how bad I felt when I got the e-mails, but I've been SO busy. Anyway, here's chapter 8, which gives you some major Mileven. Also, guess what? Spring Break is coming, so that means I'll have time to write. Please, if you have or know a Sugar Daddy, pass the contact because I need to leave school. Enjoy!**

* * *

It was a perfect morning. Freshly out of the shower, hair done and perfectly blow dried, eyeliner sharp as hell and eyebrows _on fleek_ , her coffee was creamy and sweet, just like she liked it, and her email—for once—was silent. Her Paris case had gone amazing, and now she had time to kill before her boss passed another case to her. She hopes it will be Gus' case. God, _she hopes._

Comfortably sitting on her desk chair, Nancy flips through the morning paper while she takes a sip of her coffee cup. The moment her eyes land on page 8, she nearly spits her drink out when she reads the title of the article, and the _photo_ on it.

 ** _ILLEGAL RACES CAUSE DISTURBANCES IN THE PORT AREA_**

Her brother's face is pinched in annoyance, eyes squinted through the flash of the photography as his hands grip the handles of his motorcycle. A brunette girl is seated behind him, her hand on his shoulder for support and her hair covering most of her face as they race out of the place.

"Fucking Michael Wheeler." She seethes as she glares down at her brother's face and the noticeable front license plate he failed to cover.

Does he not get the law? Fuck him.

It _had_ been a perfect morning.

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.

.

"Give it to me!" He pants as his hands grip the bars outside the window. "Throw it up, quick!"

Lucas throws the roll of paper at him, his arm stretched out and the movement strong and swift to make the item get to Mike, who's perched against the wall of the house's second floor.

With agile hands, he manages to tweak the little handle, opening the window and pushing it aside. His feet land on the soft carpet, eyes wide and taking in the pink room.

There's a vanity table to his left, and a bed in the middle of the room, and as he eyes the flat ceiling above it, he smirks.

With one cautious look at her closed bedroom door, he takes his shoes off quickly and jumps on the bed, the soft mattress bouncing underneath him.

His tongue peeks out of his lips in concentration as he works, tape making his lips sticky when he cuts pieces of it with his teeth. He can't stop looking around her room; there are photos of her and her family on the bedside table, one of her with Max, the redhead standing out from the array of photographs because of her striking hair, and his hands slow down when he stares at her, eyes wide, bright and crinkling with the huge smile on her lips. With a shake of his head, he returns to his task, mentally slapping himself for getting distracted (again) by her when she's not even there physically.

With a grunt, he lowers himself down on his knees to soften the thump of his feet on the ground, and takes a moment to lie on her bed, breathing in the scent that's becoming familiar to him now. He sits up, putting his shoes back on while looking around again, spotting creams and perfume bottles on her vanity table.

He stands up, walking to the white furniture, and carefully takes a pink glass bottle of perfume that instantly screams _El_ to him when he sniffs it. Exasperated with himself—and a little afraid, if he's being honest— he sprays some of the sweet perfume on his wrist, and a little stupid smile breaks out on him when he smells his skin and is instantly rewarded with her smell.

He glances over to her dresser, smirking to himself when he realizes he could very well be a _teenage boy_ and take a peek at her underwear drawer, but thinks better of it and walks to the window, where Lucas is waiting for him with crossed arms.

"Maybe some other time." He mumbles to himself with a smirk as he swings a leg out, holding onto the bars and placing his foot on the crease on the wall.

Besides, it will _not_ be the last time he's in her room, if he has his way.

.

.

.

El sighs as she ties the bathrobe around herself, rolling her eyes as she listens to Sara talk on the phone outside. Fog clouds her bathroom from her warm shower, and she wipes the mirror above the sink with her palm, staring at her reflection when she's no longer a blurry figure on the glass.

"I swear she's like a different person," Sara gushes to her friend as she tries her sister's lipstick on, sitting on El's vanity table. "She raced as a Siamese girl, and saved a girl from an accident. It's insane."

"Stop gossiping about me!" El exclaims as she gets out of the bathroom. "Now, get out so I can get dressed."

"Are you going out?" Sara asks excitedly as she stands up, phone against her neck to hold her call.

" _Again_ ," El rolls her eyes. "No."

Sara huffs as her older sister takes her arm and pushes to the door. "Whatever."

El sighs deeply, taking her phone from her bedside table and sits down on the bed with her bathrobe still on instead of getting dressed, because that's what she _does_.

Her messages icon has a little red number in the corner, indicating Max has not stopped texting her. The redhead was in the club with Lucas and a few other friends, and had pleaded to her to go out with them, but El's day had been so frantic, she just wanted her bed.

"Oh god, why does everyone want me out tonight?" She huffs, texting back to the redhead and lies down on the bed, her hair a wet halo around her.

Her eye sight shifts from the colorful screen of her cellphone, and instead her heart speeds up when a familiar face greets her.

"What the hell?" She mumbles, letting the phone fall on her chest as she stares at the large photograph stuck to her ceiling, which had _not_ been there when she left for school that morning.

Mike's face is highlighted by the flash of the photograph, his eyes squinted and his expression serious as the racing crowd flashes behind them. Her face is mostly obscured by her hair and his shoulders, but that's _definitely_ her. With him. Leaving the races.

The picture must have been taken when that photographer got in their way, and she remembers how Mike had saved her from getting arrested. And then that makes her think of him. She had thought of him today, while she was in school, and she was annoyed with herself by how easily her stomach fluttered when she remembered his handsome face.

His handsome face that now was glued to her ceiling, which meant he had been in her room.

Her phone vibrates on her chest and with a smile, she picks it up to see another text from Max.

 ** _'Look who's waiting for you.'_**

A photo is attached to the text, and her heart speeds up ( _a-fucking-gain_ ) when she recognizes Mike's back, leaning against the railings of what looks to be the second level in the club, staring out into the crowd while the neon lights dance around him.

She laughs, throwing her head back against her bed while her heart continues to flutter, and she bites her lip, standing up on the bed to jump up to trace his features with her fingertips, making up her mind with that photograph.

She jumps down, going to her closet to rummage for something nice but _clubby_ and not too dressy, and then she's running around naked in her room, rubbing vanilla scented cream on her legs and arms, and spritzing perfume on her chest and neck, pulling on a nice set of panties and a strapless bra to go with her dress.

She does her hair, blow drying it in loose waves that frame her face and fall beautifully against her shoulders. She does her makeup, her hand shaking from nerves and excitement, which makes her mess up her wing; she gives up and settles for a subtle line of brown eyeliner on her lid, giving her a sultry look along with her dark mascara-coated lashes. Blush and a mauve lipstick finish up her look, and as she bites her lower lip, she questions if this is the night she will let him take her lipstick off.

She steps out of her room in a layered white dress that brushes against her thighs when she moves, a jean jacket covering her otherwise bare shoulders, and golden strappy heels click against the floor as she clutches her purse in one hand, and the staircase bannister on the other.

"Are you going out?" Sara runs out of the kitchen, phone still in her hand, and meets her at the bottom of the staircase.

"Yes," El matches her grin, clutching her sister's hand in excitement as Sara squeals. "When mom and dad return, tell them I'm at Max's studying, okay? I'll be back around 11."

She taps her phone and starts tracking her Uber down, and with one last excited smile at Sara, she's out of the door.

"I'm the Musketeer's sister-in-law!" Sara gushes excitedly at her friend as she stares at her sister's back.

.

.

.

"M," Stacey touches his waist, rounding him to lean against the railing next to him, her back to the crowd and her face close, a cigarette in her hand. "Got any fire?"

Mike searches around his pocket and pulls out his lighter, shielding it with his hand to lit Stacey's cigarette when she places it on her red lips and nears her face to his hand. Her smoky eyes stare up at him with _that_ look, which tells him she wants him tonight, but he's not in the mood. Not with her anymore.

He turns his head back to stare at the dancing crowd while she releases the smoke from her lips, her chest heaving with the deep exhale, and he can feel her eyes on the side of his face as he nods his head to the beat of the electronic music.

"What's up with you?" She questions with an arched eyebrow, the hand holding her cigarette in the air while her other arm rests under her breasts.

"Nothing," he shakes his head, hands gripping the railing as he leans back in false calmness. "New projects ahead."

Stacey snorts. "Well, good luck with that," her eyes narrow as he turns his head to listen to her, her tone snarky and mocking, something he does _not_ like. "That little prude doesn't seem like the type to spread her legs that easily."

His face hardens, a fake smirk framing his lips for a second before it's gone. He turns his head completely, eyes dark and broody, and his face is almost turned into a scowl, but he settles for a bored sigh at her. He rakes his eyes up and down her form, taking in her short leather skirt and see-through shirt that enhances the push-up bra she's wearing underneath, but with stark realization, he notices it doesn't _do it_ for him anymore.

Her spine stiffens when she sees the dismissal on his face. "I'll call you, alright?" He's already turned back to face the crowd. She gulps, staring at the side of his face, and an ugly feeling settles in her chest. With all the pride she can muster, she straightens up, pulling on the hem of her skirt in self-consciousness as the sting of his obvious rejection spreads through her body like wildfire. Her cigarette suddenly feels stupid, and she smashes it under the heel of her boot as she leaves his side.

 _Good,_ Mike thinks as he throws a look over his shoulder, _she can go lick her wounds somewhere else._

He throws a look over his shoulder again, this time chuckling when he sees Lucas all wrapped around Max as they dance with Dustin and Tom, his best friend kissing the redhead like her lips are air and he's drowning. He's happy for them, he really is, but in times like these is when he feels the dark veil of loneliness drape over his shoulders.

He turns back to stare at the crowd, his spot the perfect place to observe the whole perimeters of the ground floor, and nods his head to the beat of the music again, trying to feel in the mood, like his friends were obviously doing.

And that's when he sees her.

He had casually asked who else was going to the club, and Max—way too bright to be fooled—had told him she wasn't coming.

But she's right there, in the middle of the crowd, and it's hypnotizing.

His chest tightens and his breathing hikes up, and he feels suddenly entranced by the ways she moves, by the way she looks, and by _her. Her, her, her._

.

.

.

Her ears hurt the minute she steps inside, her shoulders cold with the air above the door as she leaves the jacket closet, but she ignores it as she recognizes the song they're playing. She smiles as she feels the thrill of the night, dodging arms and swaying hips as she walks to the bar.

"Vodka with cranberry juice!" She yells to the bartender, getting a nod in return, and she turns her head to look for the familiar faces. The photo Max had texted her indicated they were in the upper floor, and a quick scan of the people around her tells her they're not near.

But then she looks up and he's there.

His curls frame his face as he stares down at the crowd, arms braced against the railing like he had been in the photo, and her heart speeds up at the sight of him.

 _God,_ she really was a goner right now. Only yesterday she had hated him in the doorstep of her house, and now she feels like she could explode from the enormous butterflies fluttering inside her body.

A cold drink is placed in front of her, and with a quick nod in thanks, she takes a gulp from the glass, the alcohol burning down her throat and the sweetness of the juice exploding in her mouth. He hasn't noticed her, and with a quick look around she knows he won't if she stays at the bar, which is kind of hidden by the tumultuous crowd yelling orders to the busy bartenders.

The song changes, and the crowd roars with cheers, arms lifted in the air and bodies moving excitedly, and as she stares up at Mike, she decides to let go.

She gulps down half of her drink, wincing when the vodka burns too much, but licks her lips and walks through the crowd feeling fierce and sexy, and all kinds of things that only _this_ , sneaking out of her house, getting dolled up, being in a club full of sweaty people, and the thrill of _him_ , could give her.

She stops in the middle of the club, the alcohol in her system relaxing her body and soothing her nerves, and she lets herself be swayed around with the song, following her instincts. Her arms rise up, her body curling sensually with the sway of her hips and the shift of her legs, and the sweat is starting to heat her up, along with the artificial smoke the club is pumped with and the vibration of the people around her. Her hand messes her hair up, the waves exposing her neck to the little cool air she can still feel around the air, and she gets lost in the song, in the rhythm, in herself.

It's only when she feels a warm presence behind her that she remembers why she was here for; _who_ she was here for.

Fingers trace her bare shoulders, goosebumps erupting on her skin as she looks down to see the digits trail down her arm until they lace with her own. She turns around and her eyes glaze over along with the _thump thump thump_ of her heart when she's staring up at him. His face is a show of colors, the lights of the club hitting the sharp angles of his handsome face, and she feels electrified with his sole presence. His fingers are warm and they make her palm tingle, and the people are still dancing around them, but she can only see _him_.

She turns around again, closing her eyes as he wraps his arms around her, and she feels his breath hit her shoulder when he leans his head there, his lips close to her skin. They dance like that for a few minutes, their movements slow and intimate, out of tune with the upbeat song, unlike the rest of the people. Her hands brush his, they clasp around his fingers which are resting against her stomach, and she leans back into him, feeling light and flowy, and immensely blissful.

He turns her around, their fingers laced together, and feels like time has stopped. There's only her and him, standing in the middle of the ocean of people. He feels weird when he's around her, and he knows what she's doing to him, what she makes him feel, but right there, looking into her eyes that shine bright like the fire of the sun, the same eyes he has been dreaming about and thinking of even when he knows he shouldn't, he decides to stop being afraid. He decides to live a little, to give in into his desire and let himself be pulled with whatever love string this girl has tied him up with.

Her lips look soft and rosy, plump and ready to be kissed. She suddenly feels shy under his intense gaze, looking up at him through dark lashes and hazy eyes. But he smiles slowly, the familiar curl of his lips soothing her and making her smile too.

"Ugly face." He whispers to her as the people dance around them.

She snickers, their faces close together and she can _feel it coming_. It has been building up ever since he threw her in that pool and entered her life.

"Mouth breather." She tells him while the neon lights highlight her face.

And then they both lean in.

It's everything she imagined it would be.

They kiss, their lips puckering together at first to later melt against the other's; soft brushes until they press their mouths harder, stronger, moving with the desire they had been feeling for each other. Mike wraps an arm around her waist and lifts a hand to hold her face, his thumb tracing her cheek as he licks into her mouth. Their tongues caress each other and her eyebrows crease together as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him harder. Their breaths mingle together as they make out in the middle of the dance floor, their bodies pressed against each other while the people continue to dance around them, sometimes bumping against them but it only prompts them to get closer, merging into one she finally waves her fingers through those crazy locks of his.

Her chest is burning, and it's only when he breaks apart from her she realizes it's from lack of air. He stares down at her with hazy eyes, his breathing harsh against her face but his thumb is still tracing her cheek, and she laughs. She laughs because this is euphoric. Kissing Mike Wheeler is _otherworldly_. He smiles with her, leaning down to brush their noses together in a soft exchange and then he presses another kiss to her lips, just because he can now.

Max screams excitedly as Lucas pats her hips repeatedly from where he's holding her from behind, the guys cheering and hollering around them as they watch El and Mike kiss. The redhead leans back against her boyfriend in happiness, receiving the kiss he plants on her lips as they watch their best friends finally end the sexual tension they had been building up with the perfect kiss.

A few meters from them, Stacey watches them with crossed arms, jealousy and confusion expanding inside her chest. M never went for that kind of girls. Why was this one different? When did he even meet her? Her mouth purses out in a scowl and she sucks the insides of her cheeks in disgruntle, and she hates the pang of _hurt_ she feels at the sight of them together.

But there's only El to Mike. There are no other worries besides catching her lips again, noisy sighs leaving them both as they kiss slowly. There are no hurries.

El feels like the moment could be eternal, and when she tells him that, he grins.

"We can make it as long as you want." He mumbles against her lips. And she wants that.

.

.

.

"Shit." She mumbles to herself as she struggles with the strap of her heel, the other one already on her right hand, along with her keys and purse.

Turns out, the moment _was_ eternal, until she noticed the time.

It was one am, and she barely convinced Mike from not dropping her off at the thought of her mother seeing him.

The front door creaks as she opens it, and she curses it violently (in her mind, of course) with a glare. She locks it and tiptoes inside, eyeing the second floor for any signs of her parents. She knew they were certainly home already, and she hoped with all her might they hadn't noticed her absence.

But hope isn't enough.

She's almost on the first step of the staircase when the light of her father's study turns on.

Her heart lurches up in her throat when Terry stands up from Jim's chair, face washed free of any makeup and clad in a robe over her pajamas, eyes tight and hard as they pin her down, and channeling every ounce of bravery in her body, she walks over to her mother obediently.

"Mom, what are you doing up?" She mentally pats herself on the back as her voice comes out questioningly instead of terrified like she feels.

Terry slaps the morning paper on her father's desk, crossing her arms in front of her stomach, and the minute El's eyes fall on her and Mike's faces in page 8, her body turns into ice.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with my daughter for her to behave like she isn't, Jane?" Terry says stonily, her voice as hard as her eyes, and El feels annoyed in an instant.

"Mom, I didn't notice the time, sorry." El shrugs, turning around to walk out as quickly as possible.

"No, come back here!" Terry snaps, walking over to tug on El's arm and stopping her in the door to the study. She meets her mom's eyes steadily, trying to look innocent and confused as to why she was being held up, but Terry frowns, staring at her with sharp eyes.

She suddenly grabs El's chin and brings her close, sniffing her breath. "Have you been drinking?" Terry questions incredulously.

"Mom, you know I don't drink." El frowns down at her mom in concealed panic.

"What is that guy with the motorcycle doing to you? Is he forcing you to do things?"

El is instantly annoyed again, and she feels a reckless rush of snapping back at her mother. "No, mom, he's not _making_ me do nothing _I_ don't want to." She grabs Terry's wrist and jerks her chin away, nearly glaring at her.

Affronted by El's sudden defiance, she slaps her; the sound of skin meeting skin resounds in the silent house, and El turns back to look at her mother in shock, her hand against the stinging handprint on her face. Terry has the nerve to look appalled at her own actions, as if her hand had suddenly acquired a mind of its own and was responsible for the slap.

Footsteps behind them make her look away, and she sees her father walking down the stairs quickly with a frown on his face.

"Is something wrong?" He questions as he takes in El's watery eyes, red cheek and Terry's crestfallen face, his wife not looking away from their daughter.

"No, dad," El says softly, throwing one last look in her mother's way before turning around fully. "I just got home late." She brushes past him and runs upstairs, eager to get to her room.

Jim looks back at Terry with knowing eyes, staring her down with the intimidating face he uses to handle business, knowing something had just happened with El; but Terry just walks into his study, grabbing a piece of paper with numbers written on it and thrusts it into his hand.

"I wrote down that boy's license plate," her voice quivers. "Track him down and talk to him."

"He's just a kid, Terry." Hopper frowns, taking in the way her hands shake.

"Tell him," she snaps, her voice a loud mess and her eyes full of tears. "If he doesn't leave our daughter alone, he's gonna get trouble."

Terry walks off, feet stomping all the way to their shared bedroom, and Jim sighs with a roll of his eyes as his head starts to throb.

.

.

.

Silent tears stream down her face as she changes into her pajamas, her face still throbbing from the slap. She sniffles, trying to muffle her cries as she hears her father close the door of his bedroom.

Her phone vibrates on her vanity table, and with quick steps she slides the screen to answer the call.

She's met by silence on the other end, but she can hear his breathing. "…Is it you?"

"I want to see you." Mike smiles into the public phone as he stares at the lit window he knows it's her room.

Through her sniffling, she bites her lip in excitement, throwing a cautious look at her closed (and locked, for good measure) door, and walks to the bathroom to have more privacy. "I'm grounded. My mom caught me sneaking in late."

"Ah, so it's not an urban legend," Mike hums teasingly. "Good girls that go bad are still being grounded." He gets a giggle out of her, and just the sound of I makes his heart flutter. "What are we doing tomorrow?" He clutches the phone tighter, still staring at her window in case she decides to sneak a peek outside and catches him standing in the public phone booth in the corner of her street.

"…Play hookie," she bites her lip, mind working a mile per second already. "Pick me up at school before classes start and we'll go somewhere together."

"Mmh," He hums again, a smirk on his lips. "It's been a while since I got up that early. I might stay asleep."

"I know you won't," she says softly. "I trust you."

His heart flutters again, and this time, he doesn't stop the feeling from expanding. "Okay," he whispers. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Good night, Mike." She mumbles, getting out of the bathroom and getting into bed with a dreamy smile.

"Good night, El." He hangs up with a grin, his hand lingering on the smooth surface of the phone, before he walks to his bike and hops on, speeding away with one last look at her window.


	9. The peace after the storm

**A/N: Sorry a million times, my dudes! School has been terrible and I know I haven't updated this in over a month, so I'll just say sorry.**

 **On the bright side, you finally get to know what Karen did, and why it broke Mike so bad to make him leave his house and get, like, a whole new identity.**

 **I love all of you and thank you all who Reviewed to urge me on and update lol. Enjoy!**

* * *

"El." A hoarse voice whispers in her ear, and she jumps with a startled yelp, sighing in amused annoyance as the voice breaks into familiar laughter.

"Max!" She chuckles, reaching out to shove the redhead as she places a hand on her chest from the scare. The bell rings loudly, distracting her for a second as they stand in the front steps of the school.

"What are you doing out here?" Max asks with laughter lingering in her voice. "Time to go inside."

"I can't." El says dramatically, wanting a reaction out of the redhead.

"Why?"

"Mike and I have plans. We're skipping school!" She squeals, grabbing Max's shoulders and squeezing her in excitement.

"What?!" The redhead gasps. "You're going to bang!" She throws her arms up in excitement.

"Shhh, Max!" El exclaims, looking around in alarm.

"El, as your best friend, I demand all details of the first time you get some." Max declares seriously.

"Oh my god, you gross _idiot!_ " El groans, shoving her again but still smiling.

"No, Ellie, I'm excited. It's like I'm losing _my_ virginity all over again." The redhead chuckles, rubbing a hand on the brunette's arm as they share a conspiring grin.

El's eyes drift away from her best friend as a honk reaches her ears, and her eyes find Mike's as he gets near. "Oh my god, there he is. Wish me luck!"

Max hugs her abruptly, squealing against her ear as Mike parks the bike and chuckles at the sight of both girls.

El begins to walk towards him, her eyes glued to his and her lip between her teeth as he smiles through a yawn.

"Pssst, El," Max calls her, making her turn her head. "Relax the pelvis." The redhead stage-whispers, rolling her hips in an obvious demonstration that leaves her blushing and makes Mike laugh loudly.

"Hi." She chuckles as she finally reaches him, tugging on a wild curl from the messy bed-hair he's sporting.

"Hey." He grins, leaning in to kiss her lips sweetly as Max runs up the stairs to the school in the background.

She grips his sides as she hops on the bike, her backpack securely on her shoulders, and sighs warmly as her nose presses to his back, basking in his scent while he turns the bike on again.

A few meters above, on the second floor's balcony, Martin Brenner purses his lips as he watches Jane Hopper drive off with the boy while she should've been getting inside school. He sighs, his fingers drumming against the cement railing of the balcony, and with a small smirk, he walks away.

.

.

.

They drive through traffic, slowing down when the light changes to red.

"Mind if I step in?" Mike chuckles as he moves in between the cars, some honking in anger as they pass them, and El giggles against his shoulder as they slide into the left lane, stopping at the front of the traffic and next to a blue car.

Mike's smile drops in an instant as he looks to his right, his shoulders tensing immediately and his throat tightening as he meets the driver's eyes.

"Oh, look who's there." Billy laughs, turning to the woman in his passenger seat.

 _Billy grunted as Mike threw the first punch, the teen's face morphed into an ugly snarl as he moved his fist back only to land it against Billy's cheek again._

"Mike?" El asks as she senses the shift in the air, noticing Mike's body that keeps on tensing as he stares into the blue vehicle.

Mike's nostrils flare as his breathing rushes out of him, locking eyes with the twin pair of dark orbs that used to tuck him in bed when he was little, the same eyes that refused to help him when he most needed her.

Karen's natural smile vanishes as she leans in to look at who her lover is pointing at, and an icy coldness runs down her spine as her son's face greets her.

 _Karen's terrified eyes closed as tears started forming beneath her eyelids, and she gripped the bedsheets tighter against her naked body as she flew from the living room, running into Billy's room to fall on the bed as Mike's grunts and the blond's groans continued to vibrate through the house._

El gasps as Mike starts to aggressively rev the handles of the bike, making it jerk and lurch violently.

"Mike." Karen pleads as he holds her stare, jaw clenched and eyes stone hard as Billy starts to laugh again.

 _His mother appeared out of a door, shoulders bare and brunette hair messy as she gripped a white sheet around her, and she gasped when she met his eyes._

"Mike, please." Karen urges, fear starting to run through her at the prospect of her son racing carelessly and violently through the streets.

" _Mike, please!" Karen cried out as her son started pummeling the man, his back hunched and weight behind his punches as anger fueled his actions._

"Mike, what's going on?!" El asks fearfully as he lunges sideways, pointing at the blond driver who looks back at Mike with hateful eyes.

"Michael, please, don't!" Karen pleads, her body straining against the seatbelt as she tries to reason with her son while he continues to violently rev his bike.

Smoke lifts around them in a heavy cloud, rubber grinding against the pavement in the street, and Mike's eyes never leave his mother's, ignoring El's yelps and pleads behind him.

As soon as the light turns green, he races past the blue car, Karen's screams drifting away from his ears as the memory comes back like a punch to the stomach.

El grips his sides as hard as she can, squeezing her eyes in fright at the speed Mike is going. Her skirt and hair fly around in the air, along with his curls that are pinned back with the force of the wind, but it's like he's in a trance. Her pleading yelps don't reach his ears, and not even when the cars honk at them he stops.

He races through the streets, dangerously speeding in the curves, and she just wants him to _stop_. She doesn't even know where they're going, because he said it was a surprise, but at the speed he's going and by the way his hands are turning white form the strong grip he has on the handles, she thinks he doesn't remember their destination either.

 _She was crying, sobbing actually, her shoulders shaking and her hair obscuring her face while she supported herself with a hand on the bed and the other on the sheet to cover herself, and usually, the sight of his mom crying was enough to make him want to cry and comfort her, but in that moment the only thing he wanted was to watch her suffer._

"Stop!" El hits his shoulders with a scream.

 _He wanted to yell at her; to call her every degrading name that ran through his head in that minute, to shake her and to make her see what she had done, how she had very well destroyed their family, how she had scarred him for life; most of all, he wanted to run._

"Stop! Stop!"

They nearly run into a trash truck, the driver honking angrily at them as the bike wobbles slightly from the harsh turn Mike had to do to prevent the collision.

"Mike, please!" El screams in his ear, her voice strained and rushed as she starts to near hysteria.

" _Mike, please!" Karen cried out._

"STOP!" El shrieks loudly. "STOP, STOP, PLEASE!"

He lifts his foot from the gas pedal, the bike loosing speed but not stopping completely, but it's enough for El. She jumps down, landing on her feet as Mike lunges up from the motorcycle, letting it crash on the ground and against some metal crash trans under the lamppost in the corner.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" She screams as she grips her hair, her chest moving up and down harshly. "YOU COULD'VE KILLED US!"

He's breathing hard, labored, but he still pays no mind as he walks to the trash cans and releases his anger on them. His knuckles meet metal with a hard grunt from him. El yells behind him but he needs this. He needs to release the anger and deep, deep _hurt_ that he still feels, that he felt when he saw her; so he continues to punch the trashcans as hard as he can, throwing his weight behind his fists.

A trashcan tumbles down, the glass bottles inside crashing loudly against the pavement, and the sound keeps on resurfacing memories that he tried so hard to bury.

 _He punched the blond again, managing to move him against the wall enough to make him hit his face on the large mirror pinned there. Blood stains the glass as Billy's face smashes against it, breaking the glass immediately with a loud_ _ **CRASH.**_

He grunts as he lifts the can, his vocal cords straining as he throws the thing over the others and manages to make them tumble like a line of bowling pines.

"Stop!" El screams behind him, tugging on his arm as he continues to punch the metal bins. He's punching with both arms now, his back moving quickly along with the fast strikes of his fists, and she doesn't know what else to do but to hug him. "Mike, _please,_ " she holds onto his jacket, trying to pin his arms back as he continues his assault on the trashcans. She can see how red his knuckles are, and she's afraid he will seriously hurt himself if he doesn't stop. "Please, please!"

He heaves, chest moving agitated with his panting, and her hands on his chest are starting to ground him along with her voice that's finally slipping through his haze.

"Mike, please, please, please," she whimpers against his back, arms around him and palms against his rapidly-beating heart, and she moves with his breaths. "Please, _stop_."

 _He shook his head slowly, his dark eyes never looking away from hers, teardrops gathering on his jaw as the wet tracks on his cheeks slowly began to dry up._

He keeps on panting, his vision clearing up from the blurry haze it had turned into, and his hands flex around El's sides as she hugs him from behind, trying to anchor himself _there_ , here with her.

"Who was that woman?" She murmurs timidly against his shoulder a few minutes later, when his breathing is starting to slow down and he isn't jostling her with his movements anymore.

He breathes in, trying to keep himself calm as El's scared screams start to solid themselves into his brain, and he feels bad about frightening her, but he wasn't thinking straight since the moment he saw _her_. "My mother." He answers, voice quiet and still shaky.

He turns around slowly, staring at her upset face, and he has the time to mentally berate himself again for making her scared _of him_ , but then she's wrapping him in her arms. He breathes her in, the scent of vanilla clinging to the skin of her neck as he buries his nose there, and he closes his eyes as her small hand rub circles on his back, the other clasped around his head, her fingers massaging through his curls, and he feels warm.

Again, with her warm touch and comfort, this girl is every bit of grounding he needs. He feels secure; he feels soothed; he feels… _loved._

 _._

* * *

 _Mike grabbed the hood of his hoodie and placed it over his curls, shivering slightly as the cold air from outside hit his face. His mom was right, it seemed, it was freezing._

 _He closed the door of his house behind him and started walking on the sidewalk, eying the pizza bike on the neighbors' driveway._

 _A few months back, a group of young men had moved in into the house that was two doors away from his. He hadn't seen them much, but he knew from his mother that they were new to town and had been hired by a company, and they shared the house rent between them._

 _He huffed lightly from the cold, his hands bunched up inside the pocket of his hoodie, and he looked up when he heard the door of the house open._

 _Curiosity got the better of him and his eyes stayed glued to the blond guy who emerged in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. Mike snorted as he wondered if he didn't feel the cold on his hairy chest, and the sound made the blond look up._

 _Out of courtesy, Mike stopped in his driveway to lift a hand and give the man an awkward smile. The pizza guy blocked most of his view, but he could see how the blond's face broke into a sweaty mess, his mouth open and his eyes panicky. Mike frowned, weirded out by his neighbor's response—did he look like a serial killer or something?-, but then he caught sight of the answer to his unvoiced question._

 _Next to the guy, on the wall opposite to the open front door, was a rack. The hooks were nothing special and they certainly wouldn't have called Mike's attention if they didn't contain his mother's bag._

 _The purple purse stood out from the whiteness of the walls, and even though he didn't know much about handbags, he would recognize his mom's Birkin anywhere because he had helped Nancy choose it when she bought it for their mother's birthday._

 _With stark realization, he lunged, running to the door the blond guy was trying to close to block Mike's entrance, but his anger gave him the push he needed to smack the door out of the blond's palms._

 _He held the blond by the shoulders and dragged him deeper into the house, noticing the cream coat Karen had been wearing draped on the arm of the couch, and that was the confirmation he needed._

 _Billy grunted as Mike threw the first punch, the teen's face morphed into an ugly snarl as he moved his fist back only to land it against Billy's cheek again._

" _Billy? What's going on?"_

 _His mother appeared out of a door, shoulders bare and brunette hair messy as she gripped a white sheet around her, and she gasped when she met his eyes._

" _Mike, please!" Karen cried out as her son started pummeling the man, his back hunched and weight behind his punches as anger fueled his actions._

 _The blond tried to throw him off, but Mike was a beast on him, snarling and huffing as he threw punch after punch. He wasn't cold anymore; he felt heat on the back of his neck, his chest aching as he started to sweat, his knuckles burning._

 _His mother continued to scream behind him, not for understanding or for forgiveness, but so he stopped hitting_ _ **Billy**_ _. His face throbbed as Billy managed to punch him back, his fist colliding with his cheekbone, but Mike had the upper hand in this. He punched the blond again, managing to move him against the wall enough to make him hit his face on the large mirror pinned there. Blood stains the glass as Billy's face smashes against it, breaking the glass immediately with a loud_ _ **CRASH.**_

 _Karen's terrified eyes closed as tears started forming beneath her eyelids, and she gripped the bedsheets tighter against her naked body as she flew from the living room, running into Billy's room to fall on the bed as Mike's grunts and the blond's groans continued to vibrate through the house._

 _Gasps left his lips from the strain on his muscles, but he held onto anger as much as he could, because he knew if he stopped, then the tears would come._

" _You son of a bitch!" He yelled at Billy, landing one last punch and then throwing the bruised blond onto the ground._

 _He heaved, his shoulders moving up and down roughly as he breathed harshly, and he turned away in search of his mother._

 _With an open palm, he pushed the door wider, leaving the room in plain sight to him._

 _It was obvious what had been happening. Clothes littered the floor, the bed was unmade, a condom wrapper was in the trash next to the bed, and the disheveled mess that was his mother confirmed everything for him._

 _She was crying, sobbing actually, her shoulders shaking and her hair obscuring her face while she supported herself with a hand on the bed and the other on the sheet to cover herself, and usually, the sight of his mom crying was enough to make him want to cry and comfort her, but in that moment the only thing he wanted was to watch her suffer._

" _Look at me." He whispered, his voice rough and shaky._

 _She sniffled, shifting her head to bury her tears on her shoulder._

" _Look at me," He repeated, his body vibrating with anger and fury and impotence and sadness and shock and repulsion and-… she still wouldn't look at him._ _ **"LOOK AT ME!"**_ _He screamed finally, at the peak of a mental breakdown from the turmoil of emotions running through him, and he could feel the wetness on his cheeks, the fat tears full of sorrow at what this current predicament meant._

 _Slowly, dreading the second that her eyes met his, Karen turned her head. Her usually perfect hair fell in wild waves around her face, the highlighted strands she had passed onto his sister sticking to her wet chin as it trembled with her sobs. Her naked shoulders were scattered with the freckles that adorned his cheeks and nose, and they reminded him of long days at the beach in his childhood, when she would wear the purple bathing suit she had loved for years because it was her favorite._

 _His heart ached; it felt like every shattered piece of it fell inside of him with every second her ashamed eyes met his accusing ones. He couldn't recognize this woman. This woman wasn't the one who only an hour ago had worried about the weather outside and had asked about his school work as if everything was normal; this wasn't the woman that he and Nancy used to bake with, flour and icing staining their fingertips as they waited for daddy to come home so the three of them could give him the cookies; this wasn't the woman that sat at his recitals and clapped in the audience when his name was called as the winner; this wasn't the woman he used to watch dancing with his father to some slow music he thought it was boring when he was three and hiding in the living room; this wasn't the woman he worshiped and placed on a pedestal for the sole reason of being his mother._

 _This woman didn't love his father; the love he used to see every day had fallen through some time in his teenage years. He and Nancy knew they had drifted apart, but they always worked through their fights. Therapy and talks behind closed doors had been evidence enough for him to see his parents in a normal marriage._

 _But this woman, the one crying on a stranger's bed, with her hair all messed up and her clothes all over an unknown floor, with a man's fluids still fresh on her thighs and hickeys on her neck from a mouth he had seen only a handful of times… this woman wasn't his mother._

" _Mike…" She whispered brokenly, her tongue wetting her dry lips as her hands readjusted the bedsheets around herself, and she didn't even know what she was calling him for, but she just wanted her only son to stop looking at her like she had killed every light from the stars in his sky._

 _He shook his head slowly, his dark eyes never looking away from hers, teardrops gathering on his jaw as the wet tracks on his cheeks slowly began to dry up. He could hear Billy groaning on the living room's floor, and he could hear his own labored breathing, but everything still felt surreal to him._

 _He fisted his hands, his sliced knuckles hissing in protest as the bloodied tissue stretched out. He knew, in that moment, everything was about to change._

 _He wanted to yell at her; to call her every degrading name that ran through his head in that minute, to shake her and to make her see what she had done, how she had very well destroyed their family, how she had scarred him for life; most of all, he wanted to run._

 _So he did._

 _With one last hurt glare in her way, he turned around, quick stomps resounding through the house as she said his name like a prayer, but not even God could help her now. He paused, delivering a quick kick on Billy's side as he passed him, and then he wrenched his mother's purse from the rack and threw it on the ground as he left the house._

 _The terrified pizza guy was sitting on his bike, talking on his phone. By the address and the shakiness in his voice, Mike figured he was calling the police._

 _With one last look at his house and the one he had just exited, he ran._

 _He ran, ran, ran, until his legs couldn't carry him anymore and the picture of his mother wasn't on his head anymore._

 _With a tired grunt, he fell on his hands and knees. He squished the sand between his fingers, feeling the hard grains press roughly on the skin of his palms, and he finally let himself cry freely._

 _Hot tears resurfaced as the loud wind of the beach he had ended up in swished around his ears. His hair flew in the air, the ends hitting his face like thin needles; the bruise on his face throbbed, his knuckles stung, and hoarse cries came out of his throat. He felt in pain, the sadness seeping deep into his bones like a deadly disease, but he knew he wouldn't be able to shake it off with meds and painkillers._

 _He was mourning._

 _For his family, for the perfect image that his mother had destroyed, for the portrait perfect life he had always had, and for the little boy that was dying inside of him._

* * *

.

.

"So, your dad and your sister don't know anything?" El asks as they walk through the sand.

After she calmed him down enough, and assured him it was _fine_ after he apologized like three thousand times, Mike decided to reactivate their plans and drove them to the beach.

Their feet tingle with every step they take, the sand sinking under their footsteps. El hugs the blanket closer to her shoulders; having shed her school blazer when they arrived, she's walking in her skirt and shirt with the long sleeves rolled on her forearms, and the breeze around them is a little cool, so Mike had pulled the blanket he had packed from the little bag he had secured on the bike.

"My dad always thinks she's on a trip with her friends." Mike responds as he watches the waves crash, eyes hidden behind black sunglasses that make her smirk because he's _such a biker._ He's also very distracting at the moment, shirtless and with his jeans riding low on his hips, his stomach bare and gleaming in the sunlight. He had joked about his paleness when he had taken his shirt off, but now that she's admiring him, she thinks it suits him. He's all rough and badass on the outside, but inside of his leather jacket lives a pale boy full of freckles that has a heart of gold.

She's a little distracted, but not enough to not realize what his answer means. She grips his bicep with a gentle hand, making him look at her. "Am I the only one who knows?"

His sunglasses lower down on the bridge of his nose (his slightly crooked nose, she notices, excited about noticing new things about him), and his warm eyes peer down at her. With a chuckle, he nods. A little smile forms on the commissure of her lips at the thought of being his secret keeper, of him sharing something so obviously personal with her. She leans up a little and kisses his freckled shoulder.

He smiles down at her, warm and bright and everything she found stupid about Sara's Shakespeare-y movies men, and she decides he's really worth it. Mike Wheeler is damaged, with some anger issues and more than a little dangerous, but when he smiles at her like _that_ , like she's the answer to every prayer he made when he was little, like she makes him tingle by just walking next to him, like she makes his heart beat faster every time her lips are near his skin, she knows he's worth every bit of a headache he has given her until that very moment.

They walk and chat for a few minutes, his long arm across her shoulders as the sun gleams above them, and he forgets about his little episode with every laugh he gets out of her. He spots red in the middle of beige sand, and with the excitement of a child, he runs to the stuck form of paper he recognizes as a kite.

The wind blows around them, both of their curls flying freely in the breeze as he holds her from behind, leading her hands in a steady grip on the kite's leash, teaching her how to keep it flying and laughing when she squeals like a four year old when she manages to keep it in the air by herself.

He eyes her, clad in the typical plaid skirt and white shirt, but so unique to his eyes. There's something about El Hopper that makes his heart throb like it never has before. Her chestnut hair is highlighted by the sun, her skin shining golden in the light, and he has the recurring though that she tans easily by the way her nose is still the same color of the rest of her face, unlike his, which is turning redder and redder the more he stands under the sun without any sunblock. But, with a chuckle to himself, he knows she's worth the burn.

.

.

.

The blanket is big enough to spread underneath them, and Mike finds a really good use for it when they lie down.

He kisses her slowly, their lips tugging and sucking as her toes wiggle and squeeze the soft fabric of the blanket. Her shirt had been unbuttoned with shy fingers, but now she wants him to fling it away from her. His fingers are barely brushing against her ribcage, but the tingles they are making her feel are enough to cause goosebumps on her skin and make her nether regions kid of… _gush._

She sighs into their kiss, her hair moving against the arm he has underneath her head, and she traces the skin of the arm that is currently sneaking its way down her torso. The little hairs on his forearm tickle her fingertips, and she moans slowly when his middle finger rubs a slow circle underneath the waistband of her skirt.

She breaks the kiss with a little pant, her eyes closed as she focuses on the gentle touch of his fingers, and he opens his eyes to see her face. She's biting her lip, brows furrowed as her hips jerk a little, and he leans down to nuzzle her chin and neck as he feels a familiar stir in his jeans.

He's nearing untouched lands when his fingers dip into the fabric of her panties, and she jolts in surprise when one finger touches her _there_.

"Mm-mm." She protests, looking into his eyes as she shakes her head.

His hand retreats to rest on her bare stomach. "Why?" He whispers, dark eyes peering into hers, and she tries to think for a reason he shouldn't touch her.

"I-", she licks her lips, closing her eyes briefly. "We're in public."

That makes him chuckle, his lips stretching into a grin and his shoulders shaking a little. "But there's no one here, El." He makes a show of looking up, straining his neck above the tall blades of uncut grass, and then he leans down to kiss her again.

She sighs again, lost in the pull of his soft lips and the nuzzles he keeps on giving her as he breathes her in, as if he can't get enough of her either, and then she feels his fingers trailing down again.

"Mmm," their lips make a sucking noise as she breaks the kiss again. She bites her lower lip, looking up at him as her hand covers the one on her pelvis. "No." She whispers, shaking her head again, and that's enough for him.

He nods, eyes soft and understanding while he retreats his hand again. He bites his lip too, trying to calm himself down, and places his palm on her soft cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of her cheekbone. "Okay." He murmurs as he nuzzles their noses together, and she gives him a tiny smile, eyes grateful for his respect to her denial.

He swoops down and presses a loving kiss to her lips. "Come here." He tugs her closer, moving to lie on his back and pulling her against his side as he smiles at her.

She giggles, warm and fuzzy, and then they are cuddling on top of the blanket as the salty breeze flutters their hair.

Later on, Mike pulls packed sandwiches from the bag, and they have breakfast together sitting on a rock by the sea, the wet slaps of the waves hitting their bare feet and wetting the bottom of Mike's jeans. He learns that she doesn't like onion on her sandwiches, and he laughs at her failed attempt of feeding the slices to a seagull. They share cheese-breathed kisses and a bottle of coke, El's cheeks taking a pink tone as he takes the plastic ring from around the bottle's mouth and slips it on her ring finger. And again, both feel like time doesn't mean a thing when they're together.

He doesn't even realize he closed his eyes when he wakes up with a start. They had returned to the blanket, and he guesses he fell asleep sometime after that.

He rubs his eyes with a hand, sitting up with a sleepy frown as he notices El isn't with him. He looks around, over the tall grass blades and sees nothing.

"El?" He calls as he turns toward the sea, a bit of panic entering his body.

His worries are appeased when he spots her brunette head, grinning widely at the sight. Her shirt is barely held together by the three middle buttons, the lower part of her stomach and her chest exposed, her plaid skirt fluttering around her thighs as her hair flies around her face. A little smile graces her lips as she raises a hand in the air, waving at him as she nears the blanket from her trip to the water.

"Good afternoon!" She giggles brightly, watching him blink the sleep away. "Did you have a good nap?"

"I don't even remember falling asleep." He chuckles, standing up from his warm nest and stretching out the numb muscles on his back. She leans in to poke his bare stomach, snickering when he flinches, and then she's running away with a squeal as he chases her.

"Hop on, Hopper." He crouches down, waiting for her to jump on his back. He smiles as her arms circle his neck, her knees lightly digging into his ribs, and his elbows grip around her thighs, securing her in place as he starts to walk along the edge of the water while she rides piggyback.

"Hey," she asks suddenly, lips against his hair. "Why here?"

"What?"

"Why did you choose this place for our date?" She clarifies as one of his curls tickles her nose.

He smiles, turning his neck to peer up at her. "Do you like it?"

"My parents always used to bring me and my sister to this beach when we were little." She smiles, her eyes drifting away from his as he turns his neck back around. "See that house over there? The one with the _'On Sale'_ sign?"

"Yeah." He looks over to where she's pointing at; a white, large house, with glass windows and a large balcony that overlooks the beach at the end of her finger.

"Sara and I used to say it was ours. We used to look at the owners and play-pretend that we were them." She chuckles, the memory a warm reminder of her childhood. The corner of her lips lower down from the smile, and she sighs deeply. "It's kind of sad," she whispers. Mike frowns, stopping to place her on her feet. He slides his arms around her stomach as she walks in front of him, staring at the house with melancholy. "It's like we can never enjoy it again."

She turns her head and smiles sadly at him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He leans in to kiss her ear, causing her to giggle from the tickly press of his lips, and he leaves his head to rest against her neck.

"I knew you'd like it." He murmurs with a smile on his lips.

This was the beach he turned to when he wanted to get away. He came here when he found his mother, and he returned other times, the last one the day he was called to Court. The day he met her.

It was like the salty air and the crash of the waves soothed him, and he couldn't think of a better place to be with the girl that did the same with just her presence.

.

.

.

"It looks better on you than on me." He grins as he walks backwards.

El laughs as she adjusts his jacket around her arms, reaching out to lightly shove him as they walk to the bike. Her backpack smacks against her back as she walks, and she feels it vibrate before she hears it.

"Oooh, who's calling you?" Mike teases as she takes out her chirping phone, watching it tremble against her palm as he mounts his bike.

She frowns lightly, staring down at the message before she blocks her phone and places it in the pocket of her skirt. "My mother doesn't trust me." She pouts, sliding up behind him on the bike and wiggling around to find a comfortable spot. "Or, well, she doesn't trust you." She laughs against his shoulder.

He chuckles lightly, rolling his eyes as he turns the bike on, and then his eyelashes flutter when she leans up to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I had a lot of fun." She whispers against his skin, and he feels her lips part into a grin when he reaches back to place his palm against her cheek.

"I had fun too. We should do this again." He grins over his shoulder, catching her lips in a short but sweet kiss.

She slides her arm around his torso, her hand splayed across his (now covered) stomach, and she keeps her other arm against his back, her hand on his shoulder, pillowing her cheek as she rests her face comfortably on him.

They're riding through the highway again, the sun harsher, unlike the soft light that had accompanied them in the morning. His hair is pinned back by the force of the air, and he knows his curls must be tickling her face by the way he feels her pull back from him. He looks over his shoulder, ready to openly chuckle, but is suddenly speechless at the sight of her.

Her head is thrown back, a light crease between her eyebrows from the direct light of the sunbeams. Her face is a smooth canvas, the scatter of eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her pink lips are slightly parted, the corners tilted in the beginnings of a smile. Her hair is a floating halo around her serene face, the brunette strands highlighted by the sunrays, just like that morning in traffic.

He's suddenly hit by the strength of his feelings for her. He knows they haven't been together for long, and at the beginning she had kind-of hated him (he knows she was in denial of her attraction, but he will keep letting her say it, only for his amusement), but he can't lie to himself anymore. He knows what he's starting to feel, and honestly, anyone who's in a 10 feet radio around her would be crazy to _not_ be a little bit in love with her. She's the most stubborn girl he's ever met, she's a hot-headed, nose-scrunching, impulsive, defiant little thing; but she's kind, loving, funny, has a smile that could melt the thickest wall of ice around his heart, and the most bright eyes he's ever seen. She's an unknown territory for him; quicksand that could shift under his feet at any moment, but if her heart is at the bottom, he's keen on falling through at any minute.

She's the rain in arid grounds, the sun in stormy days, the loudness in his laughter… she's the hug he needs when he feels out of control; his brake pedal when he's going too fast.

He drives with a smile on his face, her cheek against his shoulder again, and he feels at peace.


	10. A warrior's first battle

Biting her lip, El stares down at the loopy, elegant letters that form her mother's signature. Taking a gulp of air, she glances at the old school trip permit once more before she takes the hand holding the pen and places it on the little line that will save her ass.

 _ **School Attendance Justification**_

"Fuck." Sara breathes beside her, and El couldn't agree more. With one last mental shove from herself, she starts to trace the loops on the paper and tries to not be too much of a perfectionist when one of her fingers twitches on the pen.

"There," El exhales, holding the short sheet of paper in the air and staring at the space that Terry _supposedly_ signed. "It does look like mom's, right?"

She turns to look at Sara over her shoulder, a hopeful grimace on her face, and gets a wobbly smile in return. "I mean… will Brenner buy it?"

 _That's what I wonder_ , El thinks with a heavy sigh, turning back to her vanity table where she has the paper splayed on, along with the pens and the copy of her mother's signature.

Laughter reaches her ears from the front door, and she shares a panicked look with Sara before she's bolting out of her seat.

"It's mom!" Sara whisper-shouts, bright blue eyes wide with fear as she takes the pens from the table and shoves them inside one of the vanity's drawers.

" _I know._ " Terry's voice is suddenly on the stairs, and the other one accompanying her, which is totally unfamiliar, has El confusedly pausing her hide-the-evidence move for a few seconds before Sara slams a palm on the vanity table. With the help of the clinking perfume bottles and her sister's glare, she returns to shoving the papers inside her backpack, jumping to her bed once the zipper is closed, just in time for her door to open.

"Hey, girls." Terry smiles at her daughters, blonde waves of hair perfectly air-ruffled and shopping bags still on her forearms.

"Hi, mama," Sara dimples, the perfect image of innocence as she sits on the little bench in front of El's vanity table. "How did shopping go?"

"I found some offers… _Ugh_." Terry makes a pleasured face, one that has El thinking of moments between her parents that she did _not_ want to think about. "You girls should've gone with me. Anyway, that's not important." She looks over her shoulder with a smile, opening the door wider to reveal the company.

An unknown, tall stranger stands in the hallway outside El's bedroom. He looks young, about her age, maybe two or three years older. His hair is a chestnut brown, lightly wavy at the front but otherwise straight and _silky-looking_. His brown eyes are warm and hesitant as he stares at both girls, his smile shy, and if El wasn't currently trying to justify missing school one day because of a certain boy, she would've instantly thought that he was hot and cute.

"This is Jacob," Terry introduces them excitedly, looking back at the tall boy, and El knows she's not imagining the pointed look her mother throws in her direction. "He just moved in with the Flynn's next door!"

"Hi!" Sara greets him enthusiastically, waving her fingers in the air with a bright smile.

"Aunt Molly's my dad's sister." Jacob explains with his shy smile, hands in his jean's pockets. And El is not imagining his lingering look either.

"So, El, I thought you could show him the neighborhood." Her mother says, cutting the chase and finally revealing the reason they're in El's room.

"Oh…" - _what the hell, what the hell, what the hell_ \- "It's just… well, a friend from school called me a while ago to invite me to the movies, and because I'm not grounded anymore, I was hoping to go." She mentally pats herself in the back for coming up with a lie on the spot.

"Who?" Terry frowns, staring at her with suspicion in her eyes.

"Carla," El blurts the first name that comes to her brain. "I called Dad to ask, but he didn't pick up his phone, so I was waiting for you to come home."

Terry fidgets on the spot, visually upset over her not sharing her time with their new neighbor. "Maybe some other time, though?" El directs her question at Jacob, just to appease her mother.

"Oh, no, yeah, totally," he agrees instantly, nodding his head repeatedly in her way. "No worries. It's okay, Mrs. Hopper," he smiles down at her mother, shifting on his feet as Terry continues to sulk. "Won't be the last time El and I see each other." He throws a smile at her, and she forces herself not to glare. _What in the hell? Very sure of himself, isn't he?_ "I'll see myself out. Nice to meet you."

His footsteps resound all the way downstairs, and the three females in the room remain silent for the whole time. She knows she's on her mother's radar, so she tries to appease her again.

"I'll call him this week, okay?" She smiles sweetly at her, turning her back to the door and busying herself with arranging the bottles on her vanity table.

She hears her mother sigh, and she looks up to meet her gaze in the mirror. Terry rolls her blue eyes, huffing a little before she walks out of the room.

"That hunk is walking into the lion's den." Sara whispers with a smirk, crossing her legs and bouncing her foot up and down. "Musketeer man will eat him alive if he tries anything."

El can't help but laugh. The nickname Sara has chosen for Mike amuses her to no end, and she makes a mental note to tell him he has acquired a new label next time she sees him.

Which will be tonight, if their plans go right.

"Musketeer man will be too entertained in the movies to think of the new neighbor."

"Wait," Sara looks at her, a chuckle escaping her when she puts two and two together. "M is Carla?"

The bubble of laughter exploding out of her mouth and into the room comes out of nowhere for her, and she has to brace herself with her hands on the vanity table's surface as Sara continues to giggle.

Another nickname for the list.

.

.

.

"Mmm, missed you." Mike mumbles between kisses, his large hand tangled inside her hair, holding the back of her head as his other arm holds her close to him.

She breaks the kiss to giggle, their noses bumping together. "It's been, like, two days."

"Way too long now," he shakes his head, eskimo-kissing her. "I can't get enough of you."

"Do I have to get you into rehab?" El giggles again, returning his kisses. "Sounds like a serious addiction."

"Makes sense," he's suddenly serious. "Just being near you is enough to get me high."

She doesn't have the chance to explode-like she wants to, out of sheer adoration—because they're suddenly interrupted.

"Oh, my _fucking_ God! That did _not_ just come out of your mouth." Lucas exclaims, pulling them out of their little bubble.

"Ugh, Jesus." Mike mutters, burying his face on her neck as Lucas and their other friends start to tease the hell out of him. She giggles, looking over her shoulder to meet Max's amused face.

 _Obviously_ , she lied to her mother about going to the movies. Instead, Max had parked a street away from her house, concealing herself with a hoodie to cover her notoriously bright hair. El had pretended to call an Uber, and when the text hit her, Max rolled up into her street. The absurdity of their plan baffled her, but what baffled her the most was that it _worked_. Terry had not noticed a thing, even if Max was vibrating with giggles while El got into the back of the car.

Her best friend had cackled with laughter once they were a safe distance away, El crawling into the passenger's seat from the back while the redhead drove them to the races. Her outfit wasn't the most appropriate for the place—a pink, loose tank top with ruffles on the front and a pair of light washed jeans, paired with her loved Converse—but if she had decided to dress up for the races, her mother would've noticed something was going on.

So, here she was. Sitting on the little stage that overlooked the plaza full of leather-wearing guys on bikes, girls with short skirts and bright dyed heads, with Mike, Max and their friends. She'd noticed they were the ones that had vandalized James' car that night ( _"Bubble bath night." Mike smirked when she voiced her thoughts_ ), but at the moment, she thought the ass deserved it.

"I never thought I'd see this day," Dustin, the curly haired one with a tiny hoop in his right lobe, grins as he takes a swig of a flask. "M has been tamed!"

"I'm not _tamed_ ," Mike rolls his eyes, jumping down from the stage but still holding her hands. "What am I, a horse?"

"A lion, maybe," Will smirks, popping a Cheeto into his mouth and sucking the orange powder from his fingers. "Not totally tamed but definitely calmer."

"Then he's more like a kitty." Tom points out, sharing a blunt with Ryan as they lounge on their bikes.

"More like a pussy." Lucas smirks, dodging Mike's punch when the freckled boy throws his hand out. And then, like five year olds, both boys start wrestling each other.

"Yeah, get that kitty to the ground, Lucas!" Dustin cheers with a laugh as the pair fought for dominance.

Max slides across the stage to sit next to her, bumping her arm with hers before throwing it over El's shoulders. "God, I feel like I'm dating my little cousin."

"Incestuous much?" El laughs, watching as Mike yelps when Lucas manages to pinch his ass.

"No!" Max laughs, reaching out to steal one of Will's Cheetos. "I just… I mean, look at them!" She gestures with her free arm at their boyfriends, who are currently looking like they're in the middle of a Twister game.

"I kind of like their childishness." El admits with a smile.

Max grins, turning her attention to the brunette in her arms. "Aww," she tightens her hold on El's shoulders, hugging her further into her side. "My little girl is in love."

"Uh, no," she laughs nervously, suddenly feeling like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water on her. "No, I'm not."

"El," the redhead interrupts, loosening her hold to make their eyes meet. "It's okay. Maybe you're not ready to admit it. You may be lying to yourself, but you can't lie to me. I know you too well, toots." She taps the brunette's nose with a finger, smiling knowingly at her.

Before she can answer, a whooping yell takes their attention.

"Wooh! Yeah, baby!" Lucas hollers as he finally manages to drop Mike on his back. "I win!"

"Fuck off—"

"Nope, no chance of being a sore loser when you're obviously the one on the floor." Lucas grins, beads of sweat gathering at his hairline while their friends laugh at their struggling leader on the ground.

"And at last, the lion has been tamed!" Ryan cheers with both arms raised in the air, laughing along the others. El thinks Tom's laugh is very loud, but given the redness of his eyes, he must be finding everything funnier than everyone else.

Lucas walks to them, his face relaxing from his excited one when he meets Max's eyes. "I've come to take my price."

"Lucas!" The redhead yelps with laughter when she's suddenly plucked from El's side, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips when he lifts her up in the air.

She watches with a smile when the boys turn their teasing to the other couple, Lucas swinging Max around with a giant smile on his lips. She's suddenly aware of how happy she is. At first, she didn't know if this scene would be _her scene_ , but the more time she spends with Mike's friends and the purring of engines around her, she thinks she rather likes it.

More so when he's this close to her.

"Okay, kitty?" She questions with a little smirk when Mike suddenly obscures her view.

"I lost the wrestling match," he whispers, circling her waist and touching their noses together. "I don't know how to feel. I need a consolation price."

"I'm not a price." She points out with a raised eyebrow.

"A kiss?" He smiles hopefully.

She giggles, leaning in to press her lips to his soft ones, threading her fingers through his soft curls, feeling the moist sweat at the nape of his neck.

Maybe Max is right. _Maybe she is in love_ , because she knew it wasn't cardiac arrest that was making her heart beat this hard and the blood travel faster through her veins. It was all _him_.

"Holy fuck!" Tom screams suddenly, startling everyone. "Is that Lee?!"

"What the fuck?! Is that a 390 Duke?!" Will exclaims in surprise and a little bit of jealousy, Cheetos forgotten on the stage as he jumps down and starts walking over to the entrance of the plaza, where a slim boy is standing proudly next to a spotless, gleaming-new, orange bike.

Mike retracts from her in an instant, whistling under his breath as he stares at the bike that is attracting numerous men.

"How the hell did he get that?" Lucas frowns, plopping Max next to her while Dustin, Ryan and Tom follow Will.

"Stay here," Mike tells her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "We'll be back in a minute."

"Don't fret, sweet carrot of mine," Lucas exclaims dramatically, gripping Max's hands and pressing multiple kisses to the back of them. "I'll return. This will not be the last time we see—"

"Shut up, Sinclair." Mike rolls his eyes, gripping the collar of Lucas' leather jacket and pulling him away. "And _I'm_ the one who's supposedly _tamed_."

"And I love it! I love being pussy whipped!" Lucas yells as they walk away, leaving the girls laughing with both amusement and embarrassment as a few eyes turn their way.

"Hey, check it out," Max smiles as she takes a hold of Will's camera. "Oh, these are good!"

When they had arrived, Will had been clicking away on his friends. He had roped them into posing for him ( _"Capture me like one of your French girls." Dustin had teased as Max and El smiled to the camera_ ), sitting on the boys' bikes, dancing around to the music, letting loose when Ryan joined them. It had been fun, and Will had taken some great photos of everyone. She smiles when Max passes a photo of her and Mike, both lost in the other's eyes while the rest of the group laughed behind them. She needs to ask Will to print her a copy of that one.

They're in the middle of laughing at the one with El's pinched expression at trying tequila for the first time, when a voice interrupts them.

"Hey, _Hello Kitty_."

El frowns, recognizing the girl from the night she raced as a Siamese.

Stacey stands there, pursed red lips on a locked jaw as she stares at her with hard eyes. She had been watching them the whole night; her chest and stomach tight with jealousy as M practically breezed through the plaza with little _Pinky Pie_ attached to his hand, showing her off as his _girlfriend_. It had reached a point where she couldn't take it anymore, and seizing the chance, she decided to toy with the little princess the moment the boys left.

"This is yours, right?" The auburn haired girl questions with a mean smirk, lifting a piece of fabric in the air.

El immediately recognizes her lost scarf. And remembers how she lost it in the first place. More importantly, _why the hell does this girl have **her** scarf?_

Max tenses beside her, jumping from the stage and leaning over to hang the camera's strap on Lucas' bike handle. El takes a cue from her and lowers herself to the ground too.

"Yeah, it's mine. I don't think you'd have such a good taste if it wasn't." She practically snaps, feeling an ugly sensation rising inside her chest.

"M used it to tie me to the bed some nights ago." Stacey announces with a smirk, Cassie snickering as she stands next to the taller girl.

El feels her stomach clench with her hands, her head reeling back from the other girl's words. She doesn't want to know if it was true. But it would explain why she had her scarf, and she knows this… _Stacey_ had _something_ with Mike, by the way she had sauntered to him that race night, and by the way she had been so territorial over him. She knows Mike has a past, but this girl is too much of a heavy reminder of it, and she does not like it.

"It's strong. _Resistant_." Stacey continues tauntingly, gripping both ends of the scarf and tugging to prove her point.

"I can clearly see that, given that you're still here." El retorts, her teeth clenched in anger.

"Poor thing," Stacey shakes her head patronizingly. "You thought he'd promise you eternal love."

It kind of strikes a nerve, because she had been trying to avoid thinking too much of Mike denying his ' _taming_ '. Max's hand is on her elbow, nails practically digging into her skin, but El doesn't know if it is to ground her or to keep _herself_ from speaking up. The redhead is notorious for sticking up for her best friend, but El feels adrenaline spiking up inside of her already, and she wants this to be on her alone. She decides to think straight and take the high road, analyzing the girl and knowing what nerve to strike on her.

She lets herself smirk lightly, marveling at the light slip on Stacey's face, and turns to share a look with Max over her shoulder.

"What a pity," she turns to face Stacey again, feeling superior. "I feel sorry for you. It's so obvious that you're head over heels for him. And he doesn't have eyes for you anymore." The look on Stacey's face is priceless, really. She even wants to laugh, but anger hasn't left her system yet, so she decides to leave. "So sorry." She gives her one last smirk and then she marches up, snatching her scarf from the girl's fist on her way, Max hot on her heels.

Only it doesn't end there.

She feels her world spin when Stacey's hand latches onto her hair, keeping her from walking further away.

"Hey, hey, where do you think you're going?" The girl's voice is full of anger, the words scraping through her teeth on their way out. "Give me my scarf back."

She tries to slip away from her hold, turning back to face her as best as she can with her hair still in the girl's grasp, as Max is held back by Cassie. " _Your scarf?_ Let go of me!"

"Give me the scarf!" Stacey screams, feeling the control leave her while El struggles against her.

"Let go of me!" She continues to scream, gripping the girl's wrist and sinking her nails in the skin. Stacey hisses but continues to tug on her hair.

"Let go of me, you mother— _Get the fuck away from her!_ " Max yells angrily, trying to throw Cassie off from her, but the other girl is surprisingly strong.

When she manages to throw Stacey off from her, El pushes the girl's stomach as strongly as she can, releasing a cry of anger. But again, she feels the world spin when her cheek suddenly throbs. She hears the people around them start gathering around after Stacey slaps her, but she feels her ears block everything else that isn't the great impulse of _finishing_ this girl.

She places a hand on her pulsing cheek, breathing hard for two still seconds as she stares at Stacey, before she lunges. Stacey's head spins nearly all the way around from the force behind El's slap, and she doesn't stop there once the girl grips her own cheek.

"Get her, El!" Max screams in the background as El launches herself at Mike's ex-lover, anger and pure fury whitening her vision as Stacey starts to fight back.

Like a bunch of idiots, the crowd starts to cheer while they watch the fight. El uses her hands, fists and knees as much as she can, trying to block Stacey's punches as much as she can while punching back. The girl is obviously used to this, knowing how to use her hands and body to throw her opponent off, and with one good shove, she manages to push El into a row of parked bikes.

She feels a mirror dig into her side as she falls, and she hears the crowd go _"Ohh"_ when the bikes crash noisily onto the ground, parts clanking against each other and metal whining from the fall. She tries to regain her orientation, palming the ground while her hair is obscuring her vision, but through the strands she can see Stacey marching up to her with confident stomps, and she decides to take her chance and get _that fucking confidence_ down.

Just when she leans down to get on top of El, the brunette lifts a foot in the air and kicks the girl in the face, feeling her nose tweak under the sole of her Chuck.

Stacey immediately wails, blood pouring down her nostrils, but El is far too gone and high on adrenaline to stop. She pushes at the girl's shoulders, managing to get her on her leather-vest-clad back and sits on her stomach. Stacey bucks underneath her, and El is reminded of that one time her father paid for a ride on a horse for her and Sara when they were little, and she fell when the animal started to ondulate under her. She receives a slap on the side of the head, her ear unbalancing her for a moment, and that's enough for Stacey to gain the upper hand again.

Her skull throbs as the back of her head hits the ground, Stacey's blood dripping on her tank top, and she screams in rage as she tries to throw her off.

"C'mon, El!" Max continues to scream, landing a kick on Cassie's shin.

"The scarf!" Stacey yells nasally, gripping her forearms as El bucks wildly under her.

She's so full of fury that she doesn't even find the will on her to respond. She hooks a leg between Stacey's, hitting the girl's side with her shoulder as she rolls them over and lands on top of her. Her breathing is heavy and labored as she grips Stacey's ears, giving her the same treatment and thumping that auburn head against the floor.

"M! M!" Lucas yells over his shoulder as he spots the fight. "Mike!" That makes him look up from his conversation with Lee. "It's El!"

"Beat the shit out of her, El!" Max yells, snatching her arm back from Cassie and landing a good punch on the girl's cheekbone. Another fight breaks out then, and the crowd cheers again.

El literally sees red. Like, _literally_ , Stacey's nose keeps bleeding, and there's crimson thickness smeared all over her hands and shirt. Stacey tries to hit back, but the fight has been happening for far too long, and the poor girl is getting tired, apart from El being the one on top.

A- _fucking_ -gain, the world spins around as someone grabs her waist from behind, and she's so out of it that she clenches her thighs around Stacey's hips to prevent the person from lifting her up.

"El! El, that's enough! C'mon, babe, that's enough!"

It's Mike.

It's Mike, and his stupid, lingering concern for his ex-lover is not helping.

"Let go of me!" El yells as he bear-hugs her, trapping her arms. "Let go of me!"

" _NO!_ C'mon!"

"Let me go, Mike!" Her legs fly in the air as he finally lifts her up, and she throws her hips back against him, trying to stop his movements as he starts to backtrack.

A few feet away, Lucas pries Max off from killing Cassie, whispering soothingly on her ear as the boys try to control the situation.

"El, calm down!"

She gulps down hard, closing her eyes against the whole hurricane of emotions and sensations running through her body, and Mike's scent is starting to pass through her haze. She opens her eyes again, and she settles for glaring when she meets her enemy's gaze

"Let me fuck her up!" Stacey screams without much fight in her as Troy and an injured Cassie lift her up from the heap of blood and bruises she was on the floor.

"Touch me again and I'll kill you, bitch!" El yells back, her voice trailing off as Mike carries her out of the scene, the crowd parting like the sea for Moses.

Stacey tries to compose herself, feeling the eyes of the entire plaza on her. "Are you okay?" Troy pushes her hair back, observing her broken nose as Cassie rubs her heaving back. She does not answer, pinning her eyes to his chest as she wipes the blood from her upper lip with trembling fingers, breath shaky from adrenaline, embarrassment and lingering anger. The little mouse had fire, she'll give her that. She had to make sure to carry an extinguisher next time; those flames had to die.

.

.

.

The night air was cold and unforgiving, a blanket of icy breeze fluttering the grass and curls as they sat on top of the motorcycle. The city lights blinked at them from below, soft yellow from the buildings, bright red from the cars, and one or two neon blues from signs.

Mike watches them flicker as he holds a sobbing El to his chest. His arms are cold and a shiver sometimes runs down his spine, but he ignores it in favor of her being warm inside his jacket. He drove them here so they could be alone, and it worked, because the only sounds are her soft whimpers and the lingering noises from the city. It was a spot he liked to visit when he was feeling under the weather, besides the beach. On this hill he could always calm himself with the view, breathing fresh air into his lungs as the soothing hum of the bike vibrated underneath him. He hoped El would feel the same.

He turns his attention on her again, rubbing a large hand on her leathered back, caressing the soft, tangled strands of hair with the other. He runs his palm down the length of it, and it surprises him that the first thing that he notices is that it's getting longer. He leans his cheek on her head, closing his eyes. He's troubled. He doesn't know what to say to make her feel better. So he stays silent, giving her time to cry her emotions out until she feels good enough to talk to him.

It's a few minutes later, when her crying has subsided to soft whimpers and sniffles against his shoulder. He keeps on rubbing her back, pressing kisses to her temple, showing her comfort in the best way he knows. She leans back from him, her thighs draped over his as they sit facing each other on the seat. His arm does not retract from her waist, but the other one goes to her wet cheek, pulling stuck curls from the sticky skin and pushing it behind her ear.

"Hey." He whispers softly, his thumb gathering a teardrop from her bottom lashes and accidentally smearing some mascara.

She lowers her eyes, closing them for a few seconds as she takes a shaky breath. Her face is puffy, eyes swollen and red from crying, eyelashes wet and still beautifully curled. He's surprised that her face isn't stained with black tear tracks, but before he can think deeper of waterproof mascara, she's finally talking to him.

"I'm sorry," her voice is quiet, but he can still hear the sorrow in it. She blinks her doe eyes open, the normally bright orbs he adores brighter by the wetness in them. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I don't know what happened to me. I blacked out."

She pauses, biting her swollen lip as she sniffles, and then she peers up at him with shimmery tears surfacing in her eyes again. "She said… she said something about you…"

Mike frowns, stilling his thumb on her cheek as he stares into her eyes, willing her to continue. He doesn't know what Stacey said to her yet, but knowing the little witch, he isn't surprised El snapped.

"She said she was with you the other night, and then she had my scarf—", _shit_. He sighs, nodding as knowledge dawns on him. He knows exactly what happened then. "And that you used it to…with her. And, I don't know, I just—"

"El, it's okay," he shushes, bringing their foreheads together as her chest rattles with new sobs. "It's okay. You don't need to repeat it."

"It hurt," she confesses quietly, biting her lip again as her unshed tears sparkle in the darkness of the night. "It hurt to hear the things she said. I know you have a past with her, and that I'm not the first girl you—"

"El, El, hey," he tugs on her lip with his thumb, releasing the plump flesh from her teeth. He takes her head in his hands, palms on the skin below her ears and thumbs on the sides of her jaw, making her look at him. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that this happened to you, and I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner." He sighs, pulling more hair behind her ears as he thinks on the words to say. "Stacey… was sort of my… I don't want to say it like that, but she was my-"

"Booty call?" El supplies with a light frown.

He chuckles suddenly, his breath hitting her face in a warm puff, and it takes some of the seriousness away. "Yeah, let's call it that. She wanted more, but I wasn't ready for it. Or it was more of like I didn't want that with her. I wasn't looking for a relationship, and she isn't a girl I would choose for a formal thing. I'm sure that it stung, but I honestly don't care." He shrugs noncommittally, tapping his fingers on the sides of her neck, making her shiver and goosebumps appear on her skin. He leans down suddenly, capturing her mouth with his own in a kiss.

She feels her shoulders drop, her hands splayed against his lower back as she embraces him. His kisses are always caring; it doesn't matter if he's kissing her slowly, moving his lips on hers in soft caresses, or if he's owning her mouth like a madmen, nearly devouring her as they make out. He always makes her feel… loved. There's something about him that makes her feel secure, and even though tonight was a wild ride, he's always the gentle magic carpet that flies her home.

He breaks the kiss after a few minutes, their breathing slightly labored, and he gives her a small smile. "I don't want to talk about her. Because no matter what she said to you, I'm right here. With you. With the girl that will beat anyone's ass if they talk shit about her boyfriend."

She laughs then, _finally_ , leftover tears spilling down her cheeks from the face movement, but he's ready to catch them. His own eyes crinkle with amusement as she continues to laugh. That's always his goal. There's not a day he spends with her that he'll not make it his purpose to see that smile. The way her eyes get smaller, her lips pulled back to show the row of gleaming teeth inside her mouth, and the way her shoulders shake along with the swaying of her curls.

"I'm with you now, okay?" He tugs her closer again, the arm around her waist curling tighter and his other hand on the base of her neck. "And I promise you that I will never cheat on you, or hurt you on purpose."

"On purpose?" She repeats with a lopsided smile, amusement all over her face again as she rests her chin on his chest. The position is a bit uncomfortable, but she likes being super close to him.

"I can be an asshole sometimes. Without meaning to." He twists his mouth in a grimace, lowering his forehead on hers again. "I just want you to know that I never intend to hurt you. You're way too important for me, okay?"

She's moved, his words appeasing the growing doubts inside of her, but she believes in him. And she knows he's changing. She doesn't know a lot about his past and the way he was before they met, but she likes the boy he is when they're together, and she understands what Will told her earlier now.

 _"You're changing him." Will said observingly as he fingered the lens of his camera._

 _She frowned, a bit apprehensive. "How?"_

 _Will chuckled then, her frown deepening. Was he laughing at her or with her?_

 _"For the better." He continued, looking over her shoulder at Mike, who was sniffing what was sure to be a death serum inside Dustin's flask. "I've never seen him like this. I feel like… he's in love, or something. I don't know what you're doing to him, but keep it up, El." He smiled gently, their eyes meeting. "He's been so closed off for a while now. It feels good to see some life in his eyes again. You're doing him good."_

 _"Who's she doing good, now?" Mike materialized behind her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek repeatedly and soundly._

 _"No one, you eavesdropper."_ _She blushed under Will's knowing smile, but still giggled, receiving Mike's affections and returning Will's grin._

 _"Hey, take a photo of us!" Mike grinned._

 _"Next on "Couples Segment", Mileven." Will smirked, lifting the camera to his eyes and pointing it at them. "Say cheese!"_

She woke up from her space-out moment with Mike's mouth on hers again.

"Hey," he licks his lips, a grin following his tongue. "Do you know what warriors do after their first victory?"

He has a glint in his eyes, one that she knows is followed by mischief and maybe one or two weeks of grounding by her mother. But she has been through a lot tonight, so she decides to go for whatever he's thinking.

"No," she shakes her head, her lips twitching up in a smile as she takes in his face. "What?"

He leans in to whisper the answer in her ear, and even though she knows she'll be murdered if her mother finds out, she laughs loudly, gasping behind her palm as she leans back and stares at him in excited shock.

"Yes or no? What does my little fishy say?" Mike grins stupidly bright, moving his eyebrows up and down.

"Yes!" She laughs, leaning in to press their lips together in a noisy kiss. "Let's go, kitty."

.

.

.

"Is it going to hurt?" Her chest is rising up and down rapidly as she lies on her back, feet bobbing side to side in nerves.

"Easy," Mike chuckles, pushing her hair back from her forehead. "It'll be easier if you relax your muscles."

"Oh, God, I can't believe that thing is going to be inside of me."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He questions. "I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to do."

Jesus, what did she get herself into? _Is_ she sure?

She looks back at him, a million thoughts running inside her mind before she forces herself to stop. She _wants_ this. She knows it. "No," she shakes her head. "I want to do this. Actually, will you go and stand by the door in the meanwhile?"

"What?" He frowns, following her finger as she points to the entrance of the place. "You don't want me to be by your side? Hold your hand or something?"

"Mike, I need to do this." She says seriously, taking his hand and squeezing it in reassurance.

"She'll be fine, M," the guy next to her says, chuckling lightly at her anxious boyfriend. "I've never killed anyone."

"You better or I'll kill you next." Mike warns jokingly.

"Go see if Ronnie needs a hand or something." The guy laughs again, shooing him away.

"I'll be okay." She smiles, squeezing his hand again.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but decides not to. _It's her decision_ , he reminds himself. He leans down and kisses her softly, taking a few seconds to stare into her eyes after they break the kiss, and then he's walking away with a deep sigh, her purse slung over his shoulder.

"Ready?" The guy, whose name she couldn't remember, smiles at her, the tattoo machine in his hand and a pair of reading glasses that hadn't been there when she walked inside the parlor on his face.

"Yes," she exhales, throwing a look over his shoulder where Mike is hovering by the entrance. "I'm ready."

It stung, the needle piercing her skin and depositing black ink under the surface; she hissed and closed her eyes when it felt like too much, but she endured it. She felt a sudden veil of maturity; like she was finally in control of her life, of her body. And when the tattoo is done, she looks down at herself to find the letter she had selected as her first ink work.

The black **M** sits permanently on her hipbone, the style elegantly curled at the tips, and the texture isn't very different other than a slight rise on her skin and the bumpiness of the swelling.

It represents everything that has been going on in her life for the last few months; every change in her home life, in school, in herself. It represents the person who has the first spot in her heart, the one she prays will stay in there forever.

"I… wow," Mike breaths out, eyes wide with wonder and his face full of emotions. She didn't think it would mean so much for him, but maybe they really were on the same page. His hand hovers above her hip, hesitant but wanting to touch. "El."

He meets her eyes, and an indescribable sensation shivers down her body. It is in moments like these that she knows their feelings are running deep now. She can't wrap her head around it, can't believe how crazy this boy makes her feel. He's an insufferable idiot, immature but way too intense and serious when he wants to be, and she loves it. She loves _him_.

No words are needed. They stay in a stunned, speechless silence, one neither of them want to break. Now she just has to figure out when to reveal her feelings, and even more important, if he feels the same for her.

Her skin still stings, but the burn feels lesser when his finger is rubbing the soothing cream on her. Their eyes meet again, and this time they share a smile. His whole face splits with the wide grin on his lips, his teeth gleaming, lines appearing on his skin and those brown pools of chocolate sparkling with brightness. He leans down and gently presses his lips to the tender skin of her tattoo; her breath hitches at having his mouth on her body for the first time, his breath tickling the already very sensitive hipbone. She watches in enraptured awe as he leans away from her, almost in slow-mo, and she feels like she's in a movie. He peers up at her, a bit of hesitation in his gaze because of his bold- and unannounced— move, but it dies as soon as she extends her arms out to him.

They're probably showing too much PDA at the moment, with her still lying on the tattoo chair and him nearly straddling her, but Mike seems to know these guys, and they haven't said anything to them yet, so she really doesn't care.

The kiss is even more meaningful, finally joining their lips after so many emotions. But then she's pulling away when she detects the weird texture and the unpleasant taste on his mouth.

"Ew," she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, a grimace on her face as he frowns at her. "What is that?"

His tongue darts out, licking at his lower lip to see what she's talking about, and when it goes inside his mouth again, he instantly grimaces too. "Ugh!" He coughs, moving his head sideways so he can splutter and spit the tangy substance from his tongue without filling her face with saliva. "It's the cream!"

She laughs, loud and resounding in the nearly empty room, as she rubs the remaining of the soothing cream from her mouth. "It feels like vaseline."

He laughs then, still rubbing his mouth as he turns back to face her, and he scoots closer to her, careful of not touching her fresh tattoo with the roughness of his jean-clad thighs. He's nearly sitting on her, straddling her, but the position feels oddly comfortable and… right.

"Disgusting." She giggles, wiping his upper lip with her fingers.

"No," his voice is suddenly hushed, almost a whisper, just for their ears. Her eyes snap to his when she feels his thumb on her hipbone and his other hand takes her cheek. "There's nothing disgusting about this."

She makes sure there's no more viscous stuff on his lips before she captures his mouth with hers. His lips taste like himself again, his breath still carrying the lingering scent of alcohol, and the rasp of his tongue against hers is a familiar sensation now.

Yeah, there's definitely nothing disgusting about them.

* * *

 **A/N: Hiya! Lils, girl, here's your much awaited chapter. Sorry for not updating sooner but this chapter was pretty hard to write because of school. As I said, I'm only a few days away from vacations but I have final proyects and they've been kicking my ass. Anyway, if anyone has watched The Kissing Booth, I'm in love with Jacob Elordi (and his relationship with Joe King, like, _ugh,_ I want a boyfriend!) and I decided to include his gorgeousness in this. The character will reappear in the future, so look up for it. Also, I don't know why it took me so long to start watching Riverdale but I've done it and I'm obsessed now. That's where Ronnie's name is from. Veronica Lodge gives me major Blair Waldorf vibes and I'm loving it. Comment if I succeeded in making you believe they were having their first time at the beginning of the last part, lol.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the ass-kicking and fluff. Love you all! Don't forget to review ;)**


	11. The fallout and the highlights

"Mike," Nancy exhales, standing up from the couch as he closes the door of their apartment behind him. "There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

He frowns in confusion, hands gripping one of the sleeves of his jacket so he can start shrugging it off, as a man stands up from the other couch. He freezes his movements as recognition dawns on him. He has seen this man before, very briefly and months ago, but he knows exactly who he is.

He's tall, complexion sturdy and broad-shouldered, clad in a brown shirt and black slacks. His hair is a dark brown, matching the thick beard on his face, and his eyes are a deep blue, currently set on him.

"Michael," Hopper says, face serious as he walks over to him, extending a hand out. "I'm Jim Hopper, El's dad. I was hoping we could have a little chat."

He hates himself the minute his hand meets the man's, feeling his palms start to sweat as they shake hands formally. He has never been intimidated by someone, or at least not in a while, but El's father is nothing but imposing, and it doesn't help that he's been seeing his daughter in secret. _Shit_ , what if he followed them and he's there to castrate him for taking her to the tattoo parlor?

"I- Uh… sure." He coughs lightly to get some shock out of his throat. "I know a place where we can talk comfortably. It's near, we can walk if you want to."

"Lead the way then." Hopper gestures with a hand, silently ordering him to start walking, and he nods while he rearranges his jacket.

Hopper takes his own jacket from the back of the couch, where Mike presumes the man had thrown it on when he arrived. Which leads him to wonder how did he even found his address. He makes a mental note to ask El about her Dad's job as soon as he sees her again.

"Thank you, Miss Wheeler. It was nice to meet you." Hopper smiles gratefully at his sister as he puts the jacket on.

"Of course, sir. It was nice to meet you too. If you need anything else don't hesitate to reach out to me." Nancy shakes his hand eagerly, exhaling deeply once he turns around to head for the door.

Mike opens the door once more, pocketing his keys and gesturing outside so Hopper goes out first. "Mike," Nancy calls him, and when he turns his head, her eyes meet his with a concerned look. "We need to talk. I'll be waiting for you."

He frowns again, shrugging and nodding so she knows he'll return home and face whatever trouble she thinks he got himself into now.

Right after the door closes with a _click,_ Nancy sighs deeply, throwing herself back on the couch with a tired grunt, fingertips pressing against her eyelids without caring if she smudges her makeup. Who would've thought living with your younger sibling would bring so much responsibility to your plate?

"Damn you, Michael Wheeler." She mutters tiredly, lifting her legs and leaning her head back on the arm rest, lying down completely on the couch.

.

.

.

The inside of the bar is different than what Hopper had expected. As soon as they arrived after an uncomfortable walk in silence (uncomfortable for Mike, no doubt, because Hop was as fresh as a piece of lettuce), he threw a look in his daughter's boyfriend direction.

The bar looked a heavy rain away from falling apart. Well, _not really_ , but it was old and had an unkempt outer appearance, which changed the minute he set a foot inside.

It was medium sized, the floors a brown wood with some stains and creaks on certain spots, due to the years, no doubt. There were some people on the little tables, chatting amicably or laughing over a few bottles of beer. A colorful jukebox stood in the corner of the room, the music setting a nice ambient around, loud enough to reach everyone's ears, but not so much that you couldn't hold a conversation.

"This is nice." Hopper thinks aloud as they sit on a bar stool, facing the _actual_ bar. The alcohol bottles stand on various shelfs on the wall, all a variety of brands and sizes. Knick knacks and cups litter the counter under the shelfs, but it looks cozy and homely instead of messy.

"I know, right?" Mike smiles at him, bracing his arms on the bar island as he leans in to peer into the door inside the bar circle. "One of my friend's mom owns it."

"So you get a discount code?" Hopper joked flatly, still eying the place.

"Kind of," he answers with a chuckle. "Will's mom is always giving us free smoothies. I don't… really drink…" Okay, _that was a lie_ , but he wasn't just going to tell his… _father-in-law_ what rendezvous he got himself into. "…much."

"It's okay, kid," Hopper laughs, taking his jacket off and placing it on the back of the bar stool (bar stools with back rests, another point in this place's favor). "I'm not here to incarcerate you."

"You're not?" Mike questions carefully, trying to look nonchalant but wanting to decode Hopper's intentions.

"Why don't we get a drink first?" He proposes, eyeing the bottles with a calculating gaze.

Right on time, the door of what looks to be the kitchen opens, and a petite, short brunette comes out, hands on her hair as she lifts it up from her sweaty neck and ties it in a ponytail. She looks up and smiles instantly when she meets Mike's gaze, eyes going from his to the man next to him, but before he can introduce his companion, he speaks up.

"Joyce." Hopper breathes, surprise written all over his face as he leans back on the backrest from the sight of her.

"Well, I'll be damned," Joyce Byers laughs, pleasant wonder in her expression as she walks to them. "Jim Hopper."*

Mike looks between the two adults, eyebrows raised as he realizes they obviously know each other. Joyce looks extremely happy, while Hopper has started to look bright-eyed, a bit of a wistful smile twisting his lips.

"I- how… Hi." Hopper stumbles through his words, a surprised laugh falling out of him as he rises from his seat and actually reaches out to hug Joyce, who has to lean in over the counter to hug back the big man.

Mike chuckles as he takes in the tiny form of Will's mom inside of El's father's large arms. He can't help but notice that they look awfully close, or at least, it looks like they were, once upon a time.

"You haven't changed at all." Joyce smiles as Hopper takes his seat again, a bit of a blush staining her cheeks.

"You know what they say about old oaks." He smirks with a raised eyebrow.

Joyce's laugh is tinkering; mirth and amusement mingling together to form a familiar sound that has Mike's heart swooning and Hopper's clenching with melancholy.

"You two know each other?" Mike finally asks, expecting an obvious answer but still wanting to hear the story from them.

"Hey, honey," Joyce finally greets him, curling a skinny arm around his neck to kiss his cheek and hug him briefly. Her scent is warm and comforting, a bit of sweat and kitchen grease clinging to her blouse, but he always feels at ease with her. "Yeah. Hop and I went to school together."

"We were…" Hopper trails off, his hands pressing against the bar when a nostalgic look appears on his face.

"Friends." Joyce finishes for him, bracing her crossed arms on the bar and staring at Hopper's face, her bright eyes full of warmth. "Great friends."

Hopper sighs, a lopsided smile directed at her. Mike feels like he's intruding, but the curiosity has spiked up, and he's itching to call Will and ask if he knows anything about this relationship; because by now he can figure things out by himself, and it is obvious that these two had something more than a friendship in the past, judging by their wistful faces and their close interactions.

"What are you guys having?" Joyce addresses them, leaning back to gesture to the wall behind her.

"Uhmm, I'll have a coke." Mike smiles.

"And I—"

"Let me guess," Joyce cuts Hopper off with a knowing grin. "A beer." He laughs softly, nodding his head as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. "A bottle of coke and a Schlitz coming right up." Joyce smiles, turning around and walking to the large fridge on the other side of the bar.

"You're special." Mike whispers to Hopper, a teasing glint in his eyes and a light smirk on his lips.

He turns his head to look at him, furrowing his eyebrows in amusement. "Why is that?"

"She doesn't offer Schlitz to everyone. That's a special brand for her. You must've been on her good side." Mike smiles, leaning an elbow on the bar and resting his cheek on his fist.

"Really?" Hopper raises his eyebrows, quickly turning to look at Joyce's back before facing him again. "What's your friend's name?"

"Will Byers." He answers, knowing he's talking about Joyce's previously mentioned son.

An indescribable look shifts in Hopper's eyes, the blue darkening for a bit before he coughs lightly, nodding at his response as Joyce places the opened bottles in front of them.

"How's Lonnie?" It comes out more like a grunt than a normal question, but Mike is kind of sure that Hopper meant for it to sound like that.

Joyce pauses, hand still gripping the bottle of coke, but then she actually barks a laugh out. She licks her lips before looking at Hopper. "That's actually a great question. How is Lonnie? I wouldn't know, so I don't have the answer you're looking for, I'm afraid." At Hopper's questioning frown, she smiles, taking the caps from the counter and throwing them in the trashcan. "Lonnie Byers has been out of my life for at least ten years, Hop."

"I… I'm sorry, I just… well, how is your son?" Hopper clears his throat, changing the subject as he takes a sip of his beer.

"Sons," Joyce corrects gently, leaning in to grab a framed photo that Mike knows she always keeps in the bar. "This is Jonathan," she points at Will's older brother, showing Hopper the photo. "And this is Will."

"They look like you," Hopper smiles honestly, watching her as she strokes the photo before she puts it back in its place. "Thank God."

"Stop, you evil man," she laughs taking a paper towel and moping some wetness from the counter. "He wasn't that ugly. Now," she wipes her hands on the apron tied around her waist. "How are yours?" She reaches out and gently touches the wedding band around Hopper's left ring finger.

His face shifts, something close to guilt clouding his blue eyes, and Mike makes himself busy by sipping his coke, eyes on the pair. Hopper sighs, pulling his phone from his pants' pocket, tapping on it a few times before a smile blooms on his face. "These are my girls."

He turns the phone to show Joyce a photo of El and Sara, introducing them to her, and Mike can't help the flutter of his heart at the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, smiling softly as he watches Joyce observe them.

"Oh, wow, Hop, they're gorgeous." She grins, staring at both girls, wrinkles appearing around her eyes.

"I know." The large man smiles softly, evident pride filling him as he shows his girls.

Joyce peals her eyes from the phone to stare at Mike, catching him off ward, a knowing look on her face. "The blonde one looks a bit young, so I'm guessing you brought Mike here to talk about the brunette?" She directs her words at both, a teasing smile on her lips.

"Uh," Hopper says, letting a laugh tumble out of him as he looks at Mike. "Yeah. That's El."

"Well, I'll let you talk then. Go easy on him, Hop," she warns as she ducks underneath the bar counter, walking to stand in the middle of both. "He's a great kid. Right, sweetie?" She hugs him from behind, kissing his curls as Mike laughs, curling an arm around her shoulder from underneath hers.

She starts to walk away, and he can see Hopper fidget before he speaks up. "Wait, Joycie—"

Mike tries to suppress a twitch on his eyebrow at the nickname, failing miserably as he feels the movement on his face, but it doesn't matter because Hopper isn't looking at him.

"I'll be around," Joyce smiles through a sigh, shifting to place a hand on Hopper's shoulder. "You know where to find me now. Or we can have a smoke break once you two are done talking. Like the old times?"

"I'd love that." Jim agrees with a nod, lifting a hand to cover hers on his shoulder, looking up at her with a smile.

With one last shared look, Joyce walks away, leaving them alone at the bar. Mike keeps quiet while Hopper watches her go, sipping his beer once more before he turns to look at Mike.

Realizing he showed him a more relaxed side, he keeps the smile on his face, listening to Joyce's advice and going easy. "I don't know where to begin. You already know why we're here, as Joyce obviously pointed out. My wife… told me to talk to you."

"Sir," Mike pauses, trying to think on the correct words to use. "I understand your wife is worried. Her daughter is dating a guy who rides a bike, 80 miles per hour, because… I don't want to stop and see what's happening around me."

Hopper nods, nursing his beer, and Mike is thankful that he looks ready to hear him out, because he feels his emotions coming out in the form of word-vomit. He takes a sip of his coke, feeling the cold drink slipping down his throat. In his head, he's thinking on how to follow. He didn't really plan on going full secrets-out, but he wants to be honest. For El, so her father can see that he's got the right intentions.

"And then, suddenly, someone appears, saying: _'hey, calm down. Ease up on the gas'_." He stares at Hopper; his eyes are on him, but his mind isn't _with_ him anymore. He's thinking of El, of what she means to him. "And when you slow down… you become aware of things." He's back in the bar, a smile on his lips at the memory of her. "You notice," he points at a shelf. "That there's an old photograph of Times Square, taken by Jonathan a few years ago, behind the bottles of tequila." His ears sharpen as he detects the familiar guitar accords and thumps of the drums, making him smile as Stings begins to sing. "You notice that my favorite song is currently playing. That today is Sunday 10th, and that Joyce-", he pauses, looking over his shoulder at where Joyce is asking some costumers if everything is fine. Hopper looks over as well, and is rewarded with a smile when she looks up and meets his eyes. "-would go with you to the ends of the earth if you asked her to, in this very moment."

Hopper looks back at him, blue eyes shiny and moist, and Mike doesn't have to ask to tell that he knows it's true. "Your daughter is easing me up, Hop. She's…" he chuckles to himself, shaking his head a little. "She's _taming me_. And that's doing me real good."

Jim Hopper shares a look with him, nodding his head as he understands every word he said. It relaxes him, knowing he made himself clear to the most important man in El's life. He knows Hopper will be his advocate now, because he _felt_ that connection. As if he knew what it was to have a girl slowing you down and making you see the things you didn't want to notice.

"She makes everything better, doesn't she?" Hopper smiles indulgently, tapping his phone's home button, making the screen saver illuminate their faces. El's smile greets him, her hazel-brown orbs reflecting the sun from the place where the photo was taken. He nods slowly, appreciating the sight. Hopper clasps his shoulder with a big hand, squeezing with a smirk as he lifts his beer to his lips. "Cheers."

.

.

.

"Mike?" Nancy calls as he slips through the front door for the second time that night.

He sighs deeply, rubbing a hand on his hair, messing up his curls. He had forgotten about their talk, and he doesn't have the energy for a lecture right now.

"Mike." His older sister presses on, standing up from her place on the couch and following him as he slips away to the hallway. "Michael!"

"Not now, Nancy, please." He exhales, shrugging his heavy jacket off from his shoulders. There was a deep ache in his right shoulder blade, one that throbbed by itself and made him wince in pain every time he moved.

" _Yes now_ , Michael!" Nancy snaps, gripping the back of his shirt in a fist as she plants her feet on the carpet to prevent him from walking away, but it is useless, as he only shrugs her off and uses his larger height to drag her along. "Mike, what the hell is wrong with you?! Didn't you understand what Owens said to you? One more offence and you'll go to prison!"

She's starting to get on his _very_ last nerve. He has always been good with his sister, but her shrill voice is grating on his ears, and after the long night he had, the last thing he wants now is her chewing his ass while he could be in the shower, or better yet, in his bed, ready for a much needed slumber.

"Nance—"

"Don't you dare _Nance_ me right now!" She finally gets a good grip on his arm, tugging on it and sharply making him turn around to face her. Her face is nearly red, pink splotches of anger on her cheeks, blue eyes nearly cracking him in half with the piercing glare she's giving him, but that's _fine_ , because his own glare matches hers. "Besides filling me in on the fact that you're dating his daughter, Mr. Hopper was here to inform me that a friend of his has pressed charges against you! You broke his nose! What the fucking hell is wrong with you?!"

"It was an accident!" He nearly barks at her, eyes hard and breathing labored, vein on his neck starting to protrude.

"No! An accident is dropping something! You don't _break_ a man's nose in _accident_! Seriously, Michael, I've helped you in any way possible, and you still don't get it! I'm so sick of being your babysitter! Grow up, you're nearly 18 years old! Stop acting like a child and behave like an adult!" That does it for him.

He acts impulsively, gripping her shoulders and pushing her hard against the wall. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp, his leather jacket falling over both of their feet. "Like an adult?!" He snarls. "What's acting like an adult for you, Nancy? Being nearly thirty years old and being so self-absorbed that you don't even have friends or a boyfriend? Being a workaholic? Not knowing what it's like to have fun?"

He stops, his senses coming back to him, when he notices the tears pooling in her blue eyes. He instantly feels bad. The last time he remembers fighting with her like this, he was 6 and she was 16; he had watched a science experiment on a video, how to make… basically acid, and with the help of his nanny, he had managed to make the concoction. He had wanted to try it out, and the first thing he thought of were Nancy's old dolls. He didn't think she would mind, with her being a teenager and all, but she literally killed him when she got back from school. His mother had punished both of them, him for making _acid_ , and Nancy for hitting him. His nanny had escaped from being fired only because he had cried bloody murder on her behalf.

He comes back to reality when she shoves him away from her. His petite sister had more strength in her than he thought of. But then again, he had underestimated her many times before (hence their mother punishing her for hitting him and _actually_ hurting him).

Nancy doesn't even look at him; she just breathes heavily in the tense silence of the hallway, shaking hands on her face. He feels like an asshole.

"Nance, I'm sorry." He whispers, heart aching with guilt.

She sniffles quietly, pushing hair out of her face, and then she crouches down to grip his jacket. The wind gets knocked out of him when she shoves the leather item against his stomach.

"I've been there for you… every single time," her hands are still pressing the jacket against him, and he can feel her shaking, can hear the tightness in her voice. " _Every single time_ you needed my help, I've been there."

"And I can't thank you enough for it, Nancy," he whispers again, feeling the tremor bubbling up his throat. He really didn't mean to pounce on her like that. That is what he meant when he told El that if he hurt her, it wouldn't be on purpose. But what if this is _them_ one day? What if he loses control and does exactly what he did to Nancy just now? With trembling hands, he reaches out for her, gripping her shoulders again and trying to pull her close. His breath rushes out of him in relief when she lets him hold her. "I'm sorry, Nance. I'm so so sorry." He feels like crying, honestly. "It's just been… _so much_. So much lately, and I… I'm just sorry, sis."

"You have to get a clear head, Mikey," she whispers quietly, and he finally sniffles when her arms wrap around him, palms on his back. "You're my little brother, and I love you, but I can't protect you from _jail_ , Mike." He hugs her tighter, the lump of his jacket pressing between them, but she doesn't seem to mind and neither does he. "I never asked the reason you beat that man up. Or why you decided to come and live with me. I never ask anything from you, all I ask," she pulls back, leaning her head away so he can see the wetness underneath her eyes and the tears caught in the corners of her mouth. "All I _want_ for you is to be okay. I give you everything you want, I didn't pressure you to finish school, I… freaking _pay_ for your bike and all the shit for it. _That's_ what I work all day for. I give and give and give, but I don't see _you_ giving back."

Her hands fall from him, and he has to slap a palm on his chest to keep his jacket from falling again, but his eyes never leave hers. She wipes her face with slim fingers, nails painted a deep red that looks almost black in the darkness of the apartment. "I need your word. I need you to promise you won't be getting into more trouble. I'm a lawyer, for fuck's sake! How would it look if my little brother goes to jail?"

"I promise, okay?" He rubs his eyes with the back of a hand, ignoring the wetness that clings to his skin. "I promise I'll be good."

"You better, Mike, or I swear to God…" she leaves the warning hanging there, pointing a threatening finger at him. She walks past him, thumping her shoulder against his arm on the way on purpose, and he finds it in him to chuckle slightly. "And by the way," she stops in the entrance of her room, body halfway in. "The fact that I don't bring anyone home doesn't mean I don't have a boyfriend."

She leaves him standing in the middle of the hallway, face frozen in partial shock at her revelation, before he chuckles again. He really underestimates her.

.

.

.

Her hands are shaking. Her fingers tremble with nerves as she plays with her pen, and she tries to get a grip on herself as her name gets near.

"Sophia Gravano," Martin Brenner reads from his list, rolling his pen in a dot when the mentioned girl exclaims "Here" with a raised hand. "Jane Hopper."

"Here." El says, taking the fake attendance justification paper from her table and standing up from her seat. She shares a look with Max, the redhead giving her an encouraging smile, before she walks up to the terrifying teacher.

"Elizabeth Jone—", Brenner cuts himself off, looking up at the brunette girl that is standing expectantly before him. "Miss Hopper?"

"Here, Mr. Brenner." She hands the justification paper to him, giving him an innocent smile, before she turns around with every intention of disappearing inside her seat. But her heart stops when he calls her again.

"Miss Hopper," Brenner says, voice extremely calm in that nerve-wrecking way of his. "This is your mother's signature, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." She answers with a nod and a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She feels her hands start to sweat and the back of her neck is suddenly on fire.

"Funny," he smiles, and if it was any other teacher, she would've thought he'd _really_ found something amusing, and that smile would've calmed her down. But this is Brenner, so she immediately knows something is up. "I just spoke with her before coming to class and she had no idea of your…" he pauses to read the supposed excuse for her missing attendance. "Stomach bug. Or of your absence on Friday. She's already on her way here."

She feels the eyes of all her classmates on her back, feels the pity and anxiety harden the air around her like ice on a freezer, but the tightness in her throat and the obvious smirk in Brenner's face have her glued to the floor while her stomach clenches.

"I—"

"Miss Hopper," Martin Brenner's smirk falls, the amused mask of indifference melting to reveal the glinting eyes and face of the evil monster he really is. "You broke the rules. Do you realize that what you've done means immediate expulsion from this school?"

She tries to talk, tries to defend herself, even tries to mutter a single 'fuck you' to release some steam on him, but she finds it hard to speak with the ball of bile stuck in her throat. Her vision starts to get blurry from the tears, and the last thing she sees before they start falling is Brenner's satisfied smirk as he watches her crumble.

.

.

.

"Mom," El sobs, chest tight and hands numb from gripping her backpack while she waited outside the Principal's office. With a piercing glare, Terry grips her arm and hauls her off of her seat, dragging her out of the room and into the hallway. "Am I expelled?"

"No," Terry hisses, gripping the strap of her purse with one hand while the other is still dragging El behind her. Her blonde locks are pinned back from her tense face by the pair of dark sunglasses on top of her head, dress shirt slightly wrinkled at the back from being sitting while she spoke with the Principal, and her shoes thump on the marble floors as she stomps through them, her pace quick and angry. "Thanks to a donation of eight thousand dollars that we gave to school, out of _pure good heartedness_." Her sarcasm is poisonous, nearly spitting the words out at her daughter.

"Mama, I promise—", El starts to say, tears making her voice whiny and pleading, but she's cut short by her mother.

"Shut up, Jane," Terry snaps, stopping in the middle of the hallway to look back at the crying brunette. "Don't start with the promises. Things are going to change from now on, _that_ I promise you."

She doesn't even try to say anything when her mother grips her arm again, pushing her to walk in front of her this time as they continue their walk to the front exit. Her chest rattles with her sobs, her backpack smacking against her side from the awkward angle she's holding it, and she just wants to disappear as her mother continues to angrily lecture her.

"I don't know when you started making a fool out of me behind my back! I don't even recognize you."

"Mama—", El cries pleadingly, looking over her shoulder to try to gain a bit of her mother's sympathy.

"Be quiet!" Terry snarls sharply, the grip on El's upper arm tightening to the point of pain as she pushes her on. "I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth. I don't know if it'll be a lie, and you don't know how much that hurts me, Jane."

Footsteps reach their ears from a hallway further down, and then Max appears, red hair flying in the air as she runs to them.

"El!" The girl gasps, stopping a few feet away as Terry continues to walk. "What happened? I sneaked out of Brenner's to—"

"Stay away, Max." Terry says moodily, brushing past the redhead with a pursed mouth. "And don't call her! She won't be having her phone for a long time." El looks back with a whimper, throwing a suffering look in her best friend's direction and receives a confused but fearful one in return from the redhead.

"She's on it too, isn't she?" Her mother questions sharply, stopping only to push the doors of the school open, and El doesn't even have to think about what she's talking about, because she knows what she means by _on it_. "Maybe it's time you stop hanging out with her and all the _bad influences_ around you."

The sunlight hits her face as they walk out of school, and the bounce of her body as they descend the long steps have her sobs bubbling out of her mouth as more tears escape, because she knows who her mother is talking about, and the thought of him has her crying even more.

The ride back home is tense, Terry exhaling sharply and snapping at her as El continues to cry softly, trying to muffle her whimpers to herself, and it is then that she realizes how fucked up her mother makes her feel. She ignites a fear so deep inside of her, that she thinks it might be installed into her very bones. What is it about parents that they hold so much control over you? One day you're happily chatting about your day while your mother brushes your hair and hums quietly, and then you're older, crying in the front seat with curls stuck to your wet cheeks as she yells and sends chilling glares in your way.

It's fucked up.

.

.

.

Her day doesn't get any better after that. Her mother didn't even wait for her father to get home, she called him, sitting on his office chair and talking loudly so El could hear every negative thing she had to say about the situation all the way up in her room.

Sara had tried to make her feel better, bringing her a plate of Eggo's with apple juice, before their mother shooed her away and practically declared El in quarantine. Among the great things that El admired about her younger sister is that she never stayed quiet, and the highlight of her day had been Sara yelling back at their mother for being 'an uncomprehensive, hysterical, nerve-wrecking, sunflower-lover, overbearing _lieutenant_ that treated them like child soldiers getting ready for war'. Of course, that had landed the younger blonde in being grounded for a week, but Sara didn't seem worried about it, and she made sure El didn't feel guilty over it.

But she does.

She feels guilty about skipping school with Mike, even though their day at the beach was fantastic, because of all the consequences it brought her. She feels guilty, because no matter how many times she cursed her mother, it always comes back to feeling like shit for disappointing her.

She had always been the perfect daughter, with perfect grades and perfect behavior, all for what? So her mother turns on her at the first mistake she makes?

 _Fuck that,_ she thinks as she sobs into her pillow. She hates how drained she feels. Her father had walked inside her room and gave her his own little lecture, but he'd hugged her and told her to calm down, because 'things like that _happened_ in your teenage years', he had said. But she still feels like shit, because there had been a sad curl on the smile he'd given her after that, and no matter how much time she had spent under the shower trying to drown her tears with the water, she still cried when Terry closed her bedroom door with a tense "Go to bed."

"Fuck," she whimpers, burying her face further in into the damp spot on her pillow. " _Fuck_."

The creak of her bedroom door opening startles her, and she wipes her face hastily so her mother doesn't notice how much it affects her, but when she turns around, it's not Terry standing there.

"Sara?" She frowns as her sister leaves the door ajar, tiptoeing to where she's slumped on her bed like a dramatic Juliet.

"It's him," Sara whispers with a smile, handing El her own cellphone. "Leave it on your vanity and I'll get it back tomorrow morning."

"What?" El frowns again, taking the device from her little sister as she wipes the snot from her face with her other hand. "Sara!"

The younger blonde just gives her a sneaky smile before closing the door and leaving El in all her lonely splendor.

She sniffles, looking down at Sara's giant _Moschino Bear_ phone case and taps the screen to reveal the blinking time of a current call. The number isn't registered on Sara's contact list, but thinking quickly, she practically slaps herself with the spongy case as she holds the phone to her ear. "Mike?" She whispers, cringing when her voice cracks.

"Max told me a teacher is giving you shit at school?" It's the first thing he says, and she feels like crying again when his voice instantly wakes the butterflies in her stomach.

"He tried to get me expelled," she whimpers quietly, eying her door as she stands up from her bed. "My parents had to pay a lot of money to avoid that, but Brenner is practically failing me already, and he told the Principal to put the incident on my school file. This is gonna be a bad stamp on my college applications. Holy crap!" She nearly wails, closing her eyes as the waterfalls threaten to escape again. "I might not even graduate high school!"

She wipes her lower lashline quickly, sniffling to keep herself from crying, and the moment of silence gives her the time to realize that _it_ _is silent._

"Mike?" She tries, getting nothing on the other side of the line. "Mike, are you even there?" She huffs, pulling the phone away to check if the call is still on, before placing the damn bear against her ear again. "Why are you even calling me if you're not going to say anything? And why the hell are you panting? I swear, I'm going to hang up on you! How dare you leave me hanging like this? After the day I had? Mike, seriously—"

She manages to bury the scream in her throat, only letting a startled gasp out as her window is suddenly thrown open, and then she's lowering the hand on her mouth as he appears on the other side.

"Are you crazy?!" She yelps quietly, running to put the lock on the door as Mike jumps inside her room, panting as he pushes his curls back from his sweaty forehead. "You're going to wake up my parents! What are you even doing here?"

His only answer is a kiss. He brings his laughing mouth on hers, gripping the sides of her head and letting Sara's phone drop to the carpeted floor of her bedroom with a cushioned _thump._ As cliché as it sounds, she feels her shoulders ease up from the tense hardness they'd been as he kisses her, relaxing her body with every pull of his lips. He pulls away, her mouth following his for another kiss, not ready to let go of him yet, and he indulges her with a chuckle, claiming her mouth for another quick but deep kiss, before he breaks it.

"Hi." She breathes, a grin on her face, and she rethinks her previous thought. This—him, untamable curls framing his face as the moonlight coming in from her open window encases him in a soft glow, the lines of his broad shoulders gleaming black from the leather of his trademark jacket, and his eyes… the soft puddles of chocolate melting against hers, a spark on the irises as his fingers trace her cheeks—is the highlight of her day.

"Come on." He tugs on her hand, walking backwards to the window.

"Where?" She questions, letting him pull her towards him for a bit before she realizes what he wants. "Wait, no, no!"

"What?" He chuckles, waiting for her response.

She retracts her hand from his, an incredulous laugh getting out of her mouth as she crosses her arms. "I'm not going down there."

He looks over his shoulder, peering down at the lonely and silent street, and then he turns back to her with a nod. "Okay, let me just wake your mom up to let her know we'll be taking the house keys."

"Mike, stop!" She giggles, gripping his arm as he brushes past her, as if he really was going to venture out of her room.

"It's the only way out," his eyes crinkle with a grin as her hand trails up his clothed forearm, her other hand extended to place a raven curl behind his ear. "So, come on."

"No!" She pleads, gripping his elbows as he wraps his arms around her and starts walking to the window again, her feet stumbling between his long legs and her upper body bent backwards. "I'm scared." She pouts, planting her bare feet to make him stop.

"What? But you're brave," he smiles, thumb tracing the line of her lower lip. "You're the bravest girl I've ever met. You're a warrior!"

"Shh," she tries to quiet him down as he exclaims the last part, even though she's giggling too. He leans down to brush his larger nose against hers, nudging them together and then stealing another kiss. "I'm not even dressed." She mumbles against his lips. "I like you just like that." He mumbles back, laughing out a groan as she bites him in return.

"Let's go," he pleads as he leans back, keeping his arms around her and lowering his voice when she peers over his shoulder at the door. "We have a surprise waiting for you."

"We?" El questions with a raised eyebrow.

"Me," he kisses her. "Myself," anther kiss. "And I."

She laughs again, and just the sound of it it's enough to make him happy. "Okay, Mr. Geordie. _We_ are wearing pajamas." She gestures down at her outfit, which consists of a pair of soft, cotton shorts and a light mint shirt.

"You're fine!" He insists, walking past her to open her closet. After a few seconds in which he eyes her clothes, he pulls a random hoodie out. "There. All ready."

"No," she laughs, catching the hoodie and putting it on top of her dresser. "I still need shoes. And a bra. And I don't even know where we're going."

"If I was taking you out for dinner I'd tell you. I don't think they let you in wearing pjs, anyway, so don't worry." Mike laughs, taking a seat at the edge of her bed, bracing his hands on the mattress as he leans back a little, watching her as she opens a drawer. "Though the bra can remain optional…" he drawls, noticing the garment she's pulling out. She looks over her shoulder at him, an amused smirk on her lips and a perfectly groomed eyebrow high on her forehead. "Or not. I think you're going to need it."

"I'm not even going to ask now." She laughs, shaking her head and turning back to the drawer, where she digs through, looking for a comfortable and preferably light toned bra so it's not visible under her light shirt.

She hears him sigh behind her, and she suddenly wonders how is she going to put the bra on when he's right there. She bites her lip, thinking on going inside the bathroom, but it seems silly. He's seen her in her underwear, touched her beneath the line of her panties, and she can't deny the fact that changing in front of him kind of… thrills her. So she tries not to look like she just spent five entire minutes debating over that as she lifts her shirt off and removes it from around her head, placing it next to the hoodie.

Her skin erupts in goosebumps, the light air coming in through the window pebbling her nipples and making the hairs on her arms rise. She tries not to grin as she hears him turn completely quiet, the song he'd been humming dead on his throat.

Mike would be lying if he said the sight of her didn't wake a certain part of him. His fingers clench lightly on her bedspread, his eyes sharper now as he takes in the naked skin of her back. He can see some freckles on her shoulders, a small mole bellow her left shoulder blade, and it is so light that he hadn't noticed it, never had the time or the opportunity to admire her so closely before. He swallows, watching the way her muscles move underneath her skin as she grabs a light lavender bra. His interest is peaked again, this time in a boy-curiosity kind as he watches her put it on. Her arms go behind her back, gripping the sides of the bra and joining the pieces of fabric there, fingers on the hooks as she clasps it on. Then he watches the journey of the thin straps as she pulls an arm inside one, and then her other hand is pushing it up on her shoulders. Fascinated, he continues to observe her as she adjusts her breasts inside the undergarment, or at least that's what he thinks she's doing from the movements of her arms.

El smiles to herself, trying to calm the wild beat of her heart as she walks to her closet. Still in just a bra and shorts, she crouches down to pull some shoes out. She throws a look over her shoulder, catching his eyes and they both chuckle together, nerves bleeding out of their lips in the form of laughter. She wants to feel like this again, wants to feel the thrill of being so close to him and knowing that just some pieces of fabric are the only thing keeping their bodies from touching.

She pulls some slide-on sandals, wiggling her feet in them and righting herself up once they're on. She pulls her shirt over her head, followed by the hoodie, and then she's ready to go.

She walks over to him, standing between his legs as he pulls her close. Letting the fact that, for once, _she's_ the one that has to lean down, amuse her, she threads her fingers through his hair, joining their lips in a soft peck. El leans back, biting her lip to keep the smile on her face from reaching worrying lengths as he stays with his eyes closed for a moment.

"Done?" Mike asks quietly, blinking his eyes open from the kiss. Her hair is stuck inside the hoodie, and he reaches out to pull it out, pushing his fingers into the roots at the nape of her neck.

"Yeah," she whispers, fingers still tangled in his curls. "Done."

His hand trails down her back from her neck, caressing the length of her body, and then he rests it on the plump curve of her butt. He wants to touch it ever since that first night in the races. And by the way she sighs into his mouth as she leans down kiss him again, he kind of thinks she wants him to. He squeezes, his eyebrows lowering further down as she lets out a surprised moan and leans into him.

But he knows they won't be getting out of her house if they stay there longer. So, against his needy little instinct, he releases the globe of her ass and breaks the kiss, sharing her breath as they pant a little.

Their eyes lock, and she bites her lip again when she notices his are darker. She wonders if hers are too, but then he's standing up, gripping her hips.

"Come on." He says, clearing his throat a little when his voice comes out a bit husky.

El groans as he reaches the window, and he has the nerve to laugh while he crosses one leg through it. "I'm going to die."

"No, you're not, dramatic ugly faced fish. That's why I'm going first."

"Oh," she looks down as he jumps out of the window, gripping the bars underneath it. "I thought you just wanted to see my great ass up close. And fyi, that nickname is getting old."

"Well, that too, but it's mostly so I can catch you like the historical hero I am, in case you fall." He grins up at her, hooking a foot on the crease in the wall.

"Wait, don't go so fast." She exclaims in panic, realizing he's nearly on the first floor's wall and she's still in her room.

"Then you better start climbing, doll."

She swears she can feel her gut yelling inside her head, but she knows it's just her inner fearful voice. So with trembling hands and her heart in her throat, she throws a leg out of the window, instantly crying out in fear as the chilly air hits her face and her body bobs without any surface on the other side to hold her.

"Relax, I'm right here." Mike exclaims, patiently waiting just a few feet under her.

She imitates him, gripping the bars under the window and feeling around with her foot while she throws her other leg out. She nearly screams when Mike grabs her foot, moving it a bit further to the left and placing it right in the crease.

"There you go, now start climbing down from there. Use your nails, there are some creases to your right where you're gonna put your hands, okay?"

"It's that easy, huh?" She snaps sarcastically, feeling around for the creases he said, closing her eyes when she feels her body go down with gravity.

"Yup, sure is. Your ass looks great, by the way."

"Shut up, Michael!" She exclaims in frustration, continuing to move down the wall as he laughs.

.

.

.

"Where are we?" El asks with a frown, eying the dark hallway they're currently walking through. They had parked behind a big building, Mike leading her inside through a heavy oak door after they crossed a fence. There are lockers on the sides, turned off lamps hanging from the ceiling, and their footsteps echo on the tiled floors. "Wait, is this a school?" She wonders as they pass a door with a plaque that reads ' _135'._

"It sure is, El." He grins over his shoulder, pulling her to the right, where they find a set of double doors.

"Mike," she hisses, gripping his hand as he tries the handles and curses when he realizes they're locked. "We're trespassing! This isn't the kind of surprise I was expecting!"

"Relax," he tells her calmly, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, the one that he'd used to open the first door and that now she was suspicious about. "It's not the first time we do this."

"That's really not relaxing at all! I was nearly expelled today, I don't want to add arrested to that!"

"You're being a real party pooper right now, babe." He mutters, unlocking a door and throwing it open for her. He gestures with a hand, letting her in first and closing the door behind them. It's a gym. Even in the darkness, she can see the floors are a clear wood color, gleaming clean and certainly waxed.

"What are we doing here, Mike?" She questions seriously, gripping his hand again when he starts pulling her across the gym.

He sighs, stopping by the end of one of the bleachers. "I told you to relax, okay? Chill," he pushes some of her curls behind her ear, her hair frizzy because of the ride here. "I wouldn't do anything to put you any kind of danger, you know that, right?"

She shifts on her feet, pulling her hands inside the hoodie's front pocket as she looks at him. "Yes," she nods reluctantly, letting him take her hand out and hold it. "I know."

"Great," he pulls her head close and kisses her temple. "Because this is all for you." He gives her a carefree smile, teasingly pinching her nose and resuming their walk as she sighs behind him. Sometimes she feels like he doesn't realize he could get in real trouble. But he kind of has been in real trouble already. The whole thing with that man, his mom, all the anger issues, the charges Mr. Holland pressed against him… and on top of that, her own mother wanting to sue his ass for just dating her. After all that, she can see why he chooses to ignore his surroundings and just live his life the way he wants it to, with the people he chooses to do it with.

She comes back to reality when he pushes another set of double doors, these leading to what looks to be the gym's locker room.

Mike steps inside one random row, touching the lockers with a finger on each door until he gets to one of the last ones. He grins, turning to look at her with his hand resting on the metal door. "This was mine."

She makes a shocked sound, a mix of a gasp and a gurgle, and he starts to laugh while he pushes her to the end of the main hallway. " _This is your old school?_ "

"Yeah," he shrugs, leading her to _another_ door. "Lucas and I used to go here. That's why I've got the keys." He grins as he takes the keys out, shaking them in the air before he inserts one in the lock.

"How did you even get those? And why are there so many doors in here?"

"Eh, we have a friend… well, it's kind of lame that one of our old teachers is a friend, but he _is._ Anyway, he really liked me and once upon a time—and don't tell anyone of this, or else I'll have to mysteriously disappear you—I was a giant ass nerd who was president of the AV Club."

"Whaaaaat?" El interrupts with a teasing laugh, gripping his waist with both hands as he unlocks the door and leads her outside.

"Yeah, I know, shut up. Mr. Clarke gave me a copy of the master keys because I used to stay after school, and even though I stopped coming he didn't ask for them back, so I kept them."

She hears splashing before she sets her eyes on the huge windows in front of them. If it wasn't see-through, she would've sworn it was a green house. The design was like one, the walls made of thick glass with iron bars holding them together.

"Remind me to ask more about your past later on." She tells him as she spots water and something else. Even though their reflection was blurry, she could always recognize her best friend's fiery hair.

"Hey, look who decided to show up!" Mike shouts with a grin as he drags El by the hand. They enter through the wide open door, a smile instantly lighting up her face as Lucas and Max spring apart inside the pool.

"Hi!" Max screams excitedly, swimming to the edge to grin up at El. "I was really hoping you'd come!"

"I thought you wouldn't," Lucas pipes in, bobbing up in the water behind Max. "After the day you had."

"I told you she would." Mike answers him, throwing her a smile as he walks to a chair propped against one of the walls, the mess (clothes, shoes and some bottles of what she assumes is alcohol) that could only belong to the couple in the water thrown all over the furniture.

"Oh, damn," Lucas groans suddenly, plopping his face on Max's wet shoulder. "I bet him 20 dollars I don't have!"

"Hey, the gym's doors were closed, asshat! I thought I told you to leave them open for us." Mike tells Lucas, throwing him an annoyed look.

"We didn't come in from there," he answers, twirling in a circle in the water. "The easiest way in is from the back, obviously, so we just jumped the fence. You were the one who decided to unlock all the damn doors like a Mario level, which means you're an idiot, asshat."

El laughs, sharing an amused look with Mike over her shoulder, who's shrugging off his leather jacket and putting it on top of what looks to be Max's _The Weeknd_ t-shirt.

"Well, come on!" The redhead calls, curling her arms around Lucas' neck as he swims them to the middle of the large pool. "Get in!"

"Oh…" She looks down at herself, glaring at Mike when he comes to stand next to her. "I didn't bring a bathing suit. You could've told me we were going to a pool!"

"But where is the fun in that?" Lucas yells, going back to kissing Max as soon as he finishes speaking.

"Come on." Mike wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her up an inch from the floor. She gasps when he bucks behind her, her feet dangerously close to the water. "Mike, no!"

"I've thrown you in a pool before," he laughs against her ear. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

"No, no, it wasn't! Mike, stop!" She laughs, looking at him over her shoulder and making a serious face so he gets that she's being serious.

"It's okay," Mike laughs, letting her back on her feet and pulling her with him to the chair holding everyone's things. "I don't have one either. We'll just have to get in naked."

"What?" She exclaims scandalized, looking back to see if the other two are skinny dipping and nearly chokes when she doesn't see any fabric on Max's neck.

Mike barks a laugh out, hugging her to himself. "I'm kidding, El!"

"Are they naked?" She whispers against his chest, turning her head to keep on scrutinizing the couple in the pool.

"No," he chuckles on her hair. "At least, I don't think so. They're probably in their underwear, which is what we're wearing too."

"What? Mike, no." She pulls away, pouting slightly as he takes his shirt off. It's not fair how distracting he is, and by the way he grins at her, he knows it.

"Hurry up! The water is delicious!" Max shouts at them, beckoning her with a smile.

"If you don't get in in the next ten seconds _you'll_ be the one owing me 20 bucks!" Lucas threatens, jerking his chin at Mike.

"Okay, okay, we're going!" He chuckles, flipping his best friend off. He unbuttons his jeans, toeing his shoes off with a pointed look in her direction, and then he's flinging the pants away, pulling his socks off quickly. He makes a show of organizing his clothes, folding them neatly on the chair while he stands in just his red boxers, before grabbing her abruptly.

"No, Mike, don't!" She yelps as he throws her over his shoulder.

"Yes, Mike, do! Drop her in!" Lucas cheers, pumping a fist in the air while he holds Max to him with his other arm.

"I'm going to kill you." El threatens, sighing in relief when he plops her back on the ground.

"You have 5 seconds," Mike warns, patting her ass quickly before he runs full speed away from her. "Fishes belong in the water!"

She can't help but laugh as he disappears under water, splashing Max and Lucas and sending waves all over the pool, water slipping over the edges.

"Come on, Ellie," Max holds a hand out, a pleading look on her face. "It's just us!"

And it _is_ just them. Max has seen her naked before, countless sleepovers full of curiosity while growing up in their teens and their friendship over the years made for a bunch of peek-a-boos (accident or not), so it's not like she feels awkward around her. And Mike… Mike, who has seen her in her underwear like four times already, who only an hour ago was watching her change. The only one who she should feel a bit uncomfortable with him seeing her practically bare is Lucas, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she doesn't feel awkward. There's nothing stopping her from doing this, except for herself, and after mentally going through her shitty day, she feels like she deserves this.

"Take it off! Take it off!" Mike chants teasingly when she starts to remove her clothes, making her laugh. The fun vibe around her helps her loosen up more, so she undresses as fast as she can, biting her lip in uneasiness when she approaches the edge of the pool.

"Do a cannon ball!" Lucas urges, spluttering with water when he dips his chin too low.

Her shriek echoes all over the place as she jumps, the water surrounding her five senses immediately as she goes down. It's cold, the temperature making her shiver and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she doesn't get the chance to feel it too much as she kicks to the surface.

Coughing, she pops her head out of the water to see Max's laughing face. The redhead's loud laughter is infectious, and out of sheer incredulity, she starts laughing too.

If she looked back at six months ago when all of this started, she _knows_ her old self would be appalled to find her in a school pool, after hours, in her underwear, with two boys and Max for company. Hell, she wouldn't even _be_ here.

But right now she can't find it in herself to be weirded out. She holds onto Mike's neck when he swims to her, grabbing her bare waist under water and lifting her legs to hold onto his hips.

Out of nowhere, Lucas reappears with two bottles of what looks to be wine. She definitely notices the lack of the alcohol by the chair, and she giggles through her shivering when the boy starts drinking, Mike shoving his arm while he takes the other bottle from him, and accidentally spilling some wine in the pool. Her giggle turns into a full on bark of laughter when Lucas starts sipping the water, trying to recover the lost alcohol, and he stops only when Max actually slaps the back of his head.

She watches as her redheaded best friend sips from the bottle, and then peers down at Mike when he releases one arm from her. He's holding her on his left one so he can peel the wrapper off, tearing the metal cap with his teeth. Their eyes meet as he chugs greedily, and a glint starts lighting up his irises as he swallows and pulls the bottle away.

"Want to try it?" He murmurs, a rasp on his voice and a slight tug on his lips that she knows will turn into a smirk when she takes the bottle.

He jostles her a bit when she has it in her hand, adjusting her weight and wrapping both arms around her again. She inspects the label, and although it isn't the first time she's tasted wine, it isn't the _Bricco Pernice_ her parents had let her sip from. Still, the cheap wine is rich, flavorful and just alcoholic enough to make her mouth sting, the heaviness of it clouding her tongue and making her grimace.

Sure enough, Mike is smirking like an asshole when she manages to pry her eyes open, and she tries to change that by shoving the bottle's mouth into his lips. He takes the wine from her with a hearty chuckle, nearly choking from it and sending her into a fit of laughter.

Behind them, Max shrieks when Lucas lifts her up and dumps her underwater, her red hair disappearing beneath the surface as he laughs like a mad-man. When she returns from her trip bellow, they fight for the bottle like a couple of toddlers, and it's only when El shouts at them to share nicely, they snort and kiss to make up.

Overall, they spent the better part of the night drinking and splashing each other with water, playing chicken and making out with their respective partner once the alcohol is gone. That fueled them to be a bit past tipsy, not intoxicated enough to say drunk, but definitely light-headed and more playful.

It's then when El and Mike are kissing, a few feet away from Lucas and Max for some privacy, that things start to heat up between them again.

Their tongues are in each other's mouth, her thighs draped over his hips loose enough to have room for his thrusts, and his hands roaming all over her body. His hips buck to meet hers lazily, rolling up to press their pelvises together with enough pressure to feel _something_. She's moaning quietly, tightening her hold on him as he swallows her sounds, and she has to break the kiss from the intensity she's feeling. When she blinks her eyes open, he's watching her. He thrusts up against her again, his eyes darkening when she takes a shaky breath, and without breaking eye contact, he lowers his mouth to her neck. His lips brush on her skin, getting lower and lower until he's mouthing the tops of her breasts, his chin on the cups of her bra. Her hand is in a fist, clutching the back of his wet hair, her elbow on his shoulder.

She's so out of it that it kind of surprises her she has the will to stop.

"Wait," she pants, gripping his jaw with both thumbs, pushing his head up from her chest. "Wait. I have to tell you something."

He looks really aroused, pupils wide and dark, and as he leans in to kiss her, she realizes she rather likes the way he looks like that. It has reached a point in where she can't deny that she wants the physical part of a relationship now. She wants _him._ And she's not afraid to admit it to herself or him anymore.

"What is it?" He murmurs against her lips, tugging her closer as he breathes harshly against her skin.

But as much as she likes seeing him like this, she needs him to _listen_. So she pulls his chin up, forcing his head back so his eyes can take her face in.

"Mike," she starts, nibbling on her lip with nerves as Lucas starts to laugh somewhere behind them. "I… I've never… I've never been with anyone… like _that_."

 _I'm a Virgin!_ El wants to shout, but the word seems kind of silly to her, so she settles for what she already said.

His face softens, the dark eyes easing up the tightness in the corners and his lips tugging up a bit. She relaxes, somehow. She was kind of sure he already knew, but it didn't hurt to remind him of it, right?

"Me neither." Mike answers, shrugging a shoulder for good emphasis, and his statement is so ridiculous that she can't help but throw her head back in laughter.

"You absolute liar!" She grins, laughing more when his eyes crease with amusement. He lets her get off from him, floating on her own, but he still steps up to grab her face and kiss her.

"El!" Max interrupts with a yell, her pale face shining with water and mirth. "El! This lunatic just asked me to marry him!" Lucas has her by the waist, his dark face gleaming wet and a giant smile on his lips. El knows Lucas is very much a clown, but the soft and vulnerable way in which he shrugs his shoulders sheepishly to confirm the redhead's words has her knowing he really does mean it. And well, she doesn't blame him one bit. Max is such a catch, and she's not saying it just because she's her best friend, but because _she is._ And the way Lucas is completely smitten with her is concrete proof of it.

"What?" El laughs out in happy surprise, pulling away from Mike to reach her best friend.

"Lucas, that's awesome!" Mike shouts, catching the other boy when he throws himself at Mike. Both begin to talk in that fast and uncomprehensive way of them that only _they_ understand, but in the meanwhile, El focuses back on the redhead in her arms.

"Oh my God!" She giggles against Max's hair, clutching the freckled girl against her.

And that's how their night goes. Mike drilling Lucas about wedding plans while both girls laugh and tease sometimes, letting the boys play around for a bit. Somehow, Max decides to have a photoshoot, and Mike and Lucas pose for her in a ' _very manly no homo, bro_ ' way, but they end up getting photos of them kissing each other on the cheek and holding one another like an old married couple. El laughs until her throat feels scratchy, feeling enormously full, like she could burst at any moment, of love. Love for these three people that have taken a giant chunk of her heart. She feels at ease, like this is what she's meant to be like.

And a soft laugh tumbles out of her when Mike grabs her and pulls her down with him. "For old time's sake." He'd mumbled in her ear. She has to pinch her lips together to keep the water out of her mouth when he takes them deep underwater. She wants to laugh again, her hair a wild mane around her face as each strand gets separated with the movement in the water. He reaches for her, pulling her close and touching their bodies together while the bubbles cover their arms. He kisses her then; not the frantic Frenching they'd been doing just moments ago, but the sweet kind of kiss that pulls at your lips and at the strings of your heart.

They keep kissing, even as the water does its job and starts levitating them to the surface; even when they gasp for air once they're out, their lips stay together, eyes closed and heartbeats thumping against each other.

And she decides that _this_ ends up being the highlight of her day.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, guys! Happy Friyay! Take a shot every time I wrote 'water' in this chapter. Sorry for not updating sooner (yes, I'm already off from school, _yes_ , I know I'm an asshole for not updaing sooner now that I have more time), but because I'm such a good daughter, I had to help my mom with her kid's evaluations (she's a kindergarden teacher). My hand has been cramped since last week, I swear. Like, hello? Mexican Education System? Can you guys make it easier for the teachers and let them make their evaluations in a computer? Thx. **

**Anyway, I hope I make it up to you with this long chapter.** **Lol, I used to fake my mom's signature so much when I was younger because my teachers would send her notes telling on me (the perks of your grandma past-working in your school and all the teachers knowing your family, amirite?), and I got caught many times too, so I relate to El's desperation in this chapter. Also, fun fact: I had the Moschino Bear phone case and I adored it with my whole being, but then I switched to the iPhone 7 and it doesn't fit anymore! *cries in Spanish***


	12. A kidnap and a lost card

**A/N: I'm not even going to say anything about how long it took me to finish this. You were there, you felt the time pass just like I did. Anyway, in case you guys forgot what I said in last chapter:**

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT! I REPEAT, THIS HAS SMUT! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

 **It doesn't start until, like, the middle of the chapter, but it's pretty much what this is about.**

 **I tried to make it the least explicit I could without taking the _feels_ of the first time away. To be honest, and in my humble smut-reader opinion, I think the more detailed parts are in the foreplay. The actual intercourse isn't _that_ graphic, at least for what I could've written lol. Still, if this isn't your piece of pie, skip until the last separating dots (bottom part of the chapter). There is some mild description of after-sex clean-up, but if you're grossed out by condom talk and blood, then you should go back to Sex-Ed.**

 **Also, I think I got an A+ in cringe orgasms. I wrote a basic ass description of white minds and explosions of pink behind shaky eyelids, but I needed to get over myself and just- _fucking_ write it. So, sorry if my O's are lame lol.**

 **I wanted to not make this overly sappy and also just the right amount of awkward because this _is_ El's first time, and Mike is a fumbling mess in the show when he's around El, and although my Mike is a bad-ass with Bieber swag, I wanted to make them playful and silly and just let them have some fun (besides the sexual one lol).**

 **I highly recommend you to listen to Echosmith's _Bright_ while reading that last part, because it kind of has the light and breezy vibe I intended to transmit and because that song is just lovely. **

**I hope you guys like this! Don't forget to comment and please let me know what you guys would like to see in this story before things get... rocky.**

 **Consider this the calm before the storm *snickers evilly***

 **Until next time!**

* * *

Martin Brenner walks with a bored sigh through the hallway of the school, his books and attendance list in his left arm while he carries a cup of coffee in his right one. The stupid Principal had just told him that Jane Hopper wouldn't be getting an incident note in her school file, which upset him. The little sneak deserved to be held accountant for her mistakes, and it put him in a bad mood to see her get away with it.

It was early morning, an hour before class started, but he wanted to take the time to have an early breakfast and maybe see what else he could pin Jane Hopper with, at least in his class. Maybe there was an assignment she had forgotten about and it was marked in his list.

He pushes the door of the classroom open, his eyes trying to adjust in the darkness as he detects an unusual smell, and he pauses to leave his things on his desk before going to the windows to let the morning light in.

It's when the window is thrown open that he realizes he's not alone. Smoke swirls in the air, the distinct smell he had perceived unveiled by his newfound eyesight, and he finds the source of the problem as he follows the lit cigarette in the middle of a smoke cloud. On the second desk of the third row, a man—no, a boy—sits unperturbed in the quietness of the room. His face is mostly blurry from the smog in front of him, but it clears up as he blows out the puff of his cigarette.

He doesn't recognize him, but he's distinctly aware that he must want something from him if he's sitting in the middle of his classroom.

"You can't smoke here." It's what he chooses to say to him first, giving him a disapproving look as he leans on the wall.

"I don't plan on staying," Mike retorts, a sly smile on his face as he hisses another pull of his cigarette out. "I promise I'll be brief."

His eyes narrow in contemplation, giving the boy a flat and unimpressed look as he inspects him. He's wearing a pair of scuffed sneakers, the once-upon-a-time white shoes grey and brown from dirt, an appearance that Brenner is instantly disgusted with. His dark jeans are wrinkled, his red and white striped shirt crooked at the collar and its three neck buttons unmade. On top of that, he's wearing a leather jacket like some kind of burglar, and the monstrosity of his un-brushed hair has him mildly offended. Martin Brenner has never been anything but pristine looking, and he takes pride in that. This kid looks like he has never heard of a haircut.

"A little birdy told me you enjoy making your students suffer. Is that true, Mr. Brenner?" The freckled boy says, cocking his head to the side.

He does not answer, only crossing his arms over his suit jacket to stare the boy down into submission. That usually does it for him.

"Well, from now on, you'll treat them better. One girl in especial." Mike taps his fingers on the table in front of him with a serious expression. "If I hear that El is having any kind of problem because of you, you'll find yourself neck deep in a delicate situation."

A humorless laugh tumbles out of his lips without his permission, a white eyebrow rising in dull amusement as the kid reveals his intentions. _Of course_ this is Jane Hopper's hooligan. He should've remembered him. "Are you here to threaten me?" Brenner smirks lightly, putting his hands inside his pockets as he walks slowly to his desk. "Don't waste your time, boy. You're not the first one." He leans back on it, the smirk not leaving his lips as he observes the boy in front of him.

Mike stands up abruptly. "I'll just say this," he smashes his cigarette on the teacher's desk, instantly killing the red light on its end, and blows the remaining of smoke out of his mouth in Brenner's face. The white haired man blinks in annoyance, turning his head to avoid breathing the cigarette smoke. "Be careful. One more threat to El's record, and you'll have trouble."

"And if I'm not careful?" Martin Brenner questions, his face seemingly passive, but from a closer view, Mike can see the anger writhing beneath the surface.

"Then I'm afraid he'll suffer the consequences…" Mike says dramatically, trying to ignite some fear, or at least intrigue, in the man in front of him. Which he does, as Brenner quirks an eyebrow in confusion to make him clarify his words. With great joy he's trying to control, he leans down, closer to the man, and states one single name that has Brenner's face instantly falling with anxiety. _"Papa."_

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.

"Papa," Lucas clicks his tongue, wiggling the bright yellow tennis ball in his hand. "Papa, c'mon, boy." He tries one more time, moving his hand in circles to catch the little Corgi's attention. "Papa, go get the ball!" Lucas throws the object, watching it bounce against the floor as he stares expectantly at the dog, who looks at the bouncing ball with little interest before he turns back to the human in front of him. "Papa, the fucking ball!"

Mike laughs loudly, watching his best friend's shoulders drop in frustration while he takes a pull from his cigarette, sitting comfortably on the desk chair.

"This dog has a trauma or something." Lucas huffs as he takes a seat on one of the chairs in front of Mike, popping a tortilla chip in his mouth from the bowl between them. "Like my aunt's. The little guy thinks he's a rabbit."

Mike chuckles softly, watching the puppy lick his fingers of the free hand he holds out for him. What a weird name. Considering who the owner is, he would've thought the dog's name would be something serious, like… Archibald, or Regulus, or Queen Elizabeth III. Mike is thankful that _Papa_ isn't an actual kid, or else, he would hate to be him. The bullying at school would be insufferable.

"What the hell is that thing?" Nancy appears on the doorway, cherry red heels matching her lipstick, phone in one hand and eyes glued to the fluffy tail running all over her home office.

"Shit." Mike breathes quietly, killing his cigarette on the ashtray he'd carried from his room with a guilty glance at his older sister.

"Hey! No insults." Lucas frowns, throwing him a look as he catches the puppy and holds him like a baby, much to the animal's annoyance. "This is Papa and he's a slow learner." He explains, taking a small paw and waving it at Nancy.

"He's ours." Mike pipes in, all dimples and innocent eyes as he walks from the desk to throw an arm around his best friend's shoulders. "Lucas and I bought him."

"Who has custody?" Nancy snorts, quirking an eyebrow as she stops to scratch the puppy's stomach before walking to her desk, throwing an annoyed look in Mike's direction when she notices the ashtray.

"Lucas." Mike answers easily, looking down at him with a wicked smirk.

"But he's staying with his mom for now." Lucas rebuts, thrusting the Corgi into Mike's arms and pulling away quickly before he can give the puppy back. Mike just sighs, letting Papa loose on the floor to explore as he pleases.

"We have to go," Lucas tells Nancy, taking his jacket from the couch as Mike pulls his on. "But please take care of our child. He's the future heir to this empire."

"What? Wait a minute, you're not leaving him with me!" Nancy protests with a scoff, standing up from her seat while the puppy begins sniffing at her computer cable. "I've got things to do!"

"So do we," Lucas throws over his shoulder, trying to send her a smile as a snickering Mike pushes him to walk out quickly. "He's a good boy! Just don't let him pee on the carpet!"

"Bye, Nance!" Mike waves as he closes the door of the office, leaving her alone, except for the furry loaf of bread who's currently staring at her.

"What?" She asks him, taking her high heels off with a sigh. "Are you going to be a good boy for Aunt Nancy?"

Papa cocks his head, watching her feet curiously, before he walks over to where she left her red Decollettes.

"Don't you dare bite those," she threatens with her toe while he sniffs them. "They are brand new, bought in Paris and are worth more than three of you combined." Papa doesn't understand her though, or he just doesn't care, because the next thing he does is plop on his stomach and take one of the Louboutins between his paws, latching onto the tip with his mouth.

"No!" Nancy cries out, running to snatch the shoe out of his wet tongue and sharp little teeth, but retreats her hand with a loud yelp when Papa tries to bite her. "God, what have I ever done to you to deserve this?!" She whines, plopping down next to the puppy with a frustrated pout.

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.

With her shoes up in her room, El's sock-covered feet leave no noise as she walks down the stairs, peering around the staircase to find her father's office empty. While she stares at his comfortable armchair and the lack of a burly figure on it, a scent that has become familiar over the last months hits her nostrils, leading her out of the office and further into the house.

The large window on the side of the room lets the soft light in, giving the area an eerie glow, which she's thankful for, otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to spot the figure sitting in the corner.

"If mom catches you smoking in the house she'll have your head on a silver platter." El giggles quietly at the startled look on Hopper's face and the way he instantly lowers the cigarette.

He sighs amusedly when he realizes it's just her. "Well, she won't find out from me. Or from you, right?" He smirks at her, the thick mustache above his lip twitching along his mouth.

"She'd be lucky if she got a ' _hi'_ from me right now." El licks her teeth, walking inside the living room with crossed arms.

Hopper rolls his eyes, lowering his book a little. "This ridiculous silent war has got to end."

"It's not ridiculous," she pouts, sitting on the armrest and passing an arm over the back of the chair, leaning her cheek on the top of his balding head. "And it's not a war. She's just mean."

"She's your mother." Her father sighs deeply, obviously tired of the subject, so she decides to leave it there. He shifts his elbow so she can have more room on the armrest, adjusting the book on his hand again as he places his cigarette back in his mouth.

El watches the smoke rise in the air, foggy and nearly colorless but still visible with the light from the window. She breathes her father in, closing her eyes as she fingers the collar of his flannel shirt, smiling at the peaceful moment.

"I love the smell of stale cigarettes." She whispers with a fond grin. "It reminds me of when I was little." It also reminds her of Mike and his body odor, but she omits that detail.

Hopper squints up at her, a wry smile tilting his lips under all that facial hair. "Should I start getting you cancer lung pamphlets?"

She laughs, harmonic and loudly, inflating her father's smile as he chuckles with her. "You're such a hypocrite!"

His shoulders still shake with his snorts, and he takes another pull of his cigarette before he continues reading. She plays with the soft material of his shirt, the blue and black flannel thick between her fingers as she reads along with him. She lets a deep sigh out of her chest, closing her eyes again and _waits_ … waits, waits… until—

"Do you want to go to the movies or something?" Hopper mumbles around his cigarette, finally giving El the chance she was hoping for. "I feel like going out."

"Haven't you heard? I'm grounded for life." She pouts sadly, tracing the shell of his ear with a finger. "Max and some friends are having a sleepover at her house and I'm going to miss it because I'm basically on house arrest."

He snorts again, inhaling the tobacco and exhaling it in a cloud of smoke. "Aren't you a little old to be having sleepovers?"

She glares down at him. "Well, it's not like I'm going, so it doesn't matter."

He continues reading, mouthing the letters as she sits in gloomy silence, before he rolls his eyes and puts the book down. "Go," he tells her as he takes another pull of his shortening cigarette. "Have fun with your friends."

"Really?" El questions excitedly, standing up from her seat to stare at him in barely controlled glee.

"Really," Hopper confirms, chuckling when she wraps her arms around him with a squeal. "I'll deal with your mother. Go get ready. You need a ride?"

"No," she throws over her shoulder, already running out of the room before he can change his mind. "Don't worry about it!"

It's not until she's yelling goodbye at him with a small bag slung over her shoulder, a good thirty minutes later, that he stands up from his seat. He smashes the butt of his cigarette on the ashtray next to him, blowing the last of the smoke out of his system as he walks to the small trashcan by the window. As he throws the ash into it, his eyes glance up just in time to see his daughter getting carried to a motorcycle while she squeals with mirth.

Hopper stands with the glass ashtray in his palm, bracing the other against the wall as he realizes El might have lied to him. Why else would Michael Wheeler be outside his house, just in time to catch El leaving? Pursing his mouth, he tries to decide if he's angry or not, but then he looks up again, observing the way Mike places what it looks like a scarf over the brunette's eyes and kisses her lips, securing a helmet on her head first before he gets on the bike.

After their little chat a week prior, he got a feeling in his chest, like he should be at ease with the situation. Mike's words, along with the skip in El's feet (that he now knows the reason behind it) calmed him down enough to trust his daughter on the hands of the curly haired boy. Joyce's reassurance about how much of a good kid Mike was didn't hurt either.

And that's why he watches them drive away with a smile. He needs to get closer to his daughter, needs to tell her that it's okay to confide in him, that he _likes_ the kid. That he'll be understanding and approving where her mother isn't. So, with a pat on the pack of Camels hidden in the pocket of his plaid shirt, he walks back to his seat, getting comfortable before continuing his reading.

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.

"Where are we?" She questions as soon as the hum of the bike is no longer vibrating underneath her.

"No, no, no, hold up!" Mike grabs her hands, pushing the scarf back down. "Wait until I tell you to take it off."

"Mike—", she huffs in annoyance as her vision gets obscured again. " _Mike!"_

"Hush, hush, toots." He grins as he waves a hand in front of her face, making sure she isn't seeing anything yet. He curls an arm around her, letting her place her hands on his shoulders for leverage as she throws a leg out with the intention of touching solid ground. When she takes too long for his impatient-self, he tightens the arm around her waist and pulls, holding her against his torso as he lifts her off of the bike and plants her on her feet.

Her hands are left alone in the air as he steps back, losing contact with his body.

"Stay here, okay?" Mike tells her as he guides her hand to one of the bike's handles, trying to leave her with something she's familiar with while she doesn't have a clue about their whereabouts. "And no peeking!"

He walks backwards, taking her bag and keeping his eyes on her to make sure she won't try to get the blindfold off. He turns on his heels and eyes the _'On Sale'_ sign that is splayed over the white wall, and then jumps up to catch the edge of the door he and Lucas had spotted when they'd come to check the place out earlier.

"I think I can hear the sea." She murmurs nervously to herself as she sinks her nail in the plush material that covers the metal handle. Not seeing anything is getting her on edge, and him leaving her like this doesn't help. But she tries to calm herself down with the thought of knowing he wouldn't put her in danger by choice.

That though goes out of the window when she hears the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. A startled gasp chokes on the way out of her throat, and she feels the unnerving rush of panic in her veins as she turns to face where (she thinks) the sound came from. "Mike?! Mike, what was that?! This isn't funny!"

She hears a door opening to her right and she turns just in time to hear his footsteps.

"It's okay, it's okay," he snickers, reaching for her face as soon as he's standing in front of her. "It was me, there's nobody else here." Her hands clench and unclench on his shirt as she tries to pull him closer, her shoulders moving rapidly with her breathing. He lets a started yelp out when she slaps his chest.

"What the hell?" She frowns under the scarf, hitting him again when he starts to laugh. "What did you do?"

He places a small kiss on her nose to calm her down, running his thumbs on the edge of her jawline. "It's okay. Come on." He disappears from underneath her hands again, but this time his chest is a solid company against her back, his hands on her stomach as he wraps his arms around her waist.

"Where are we going?"

"Just walk," he says against her cheek, forcing her to walk as he starts moving. "Walk straight… okay, step… careful! I said step… move your foot, babe." He snorts as she hesitantly lifts her foot and slides it back and forth on the surface of the step, trying to feel the space they're currently in. He decides it'd be easier if he carried her, which he does, lifting her over the remaining steps with a light grunt as she squeaks in surprise.

"Mike, seriously," she murmurs when he plants her on the floor, wood creaking under their weight as he reaches back to close the door. "Where are we?" The air around them is light and cool, rustling her hair as she takes slow steps.

His torso rests against her back again as he curls around her, arms over hers and lips next to her ear, pressing kisses to her hair. "What an impatient little fish." He murmurs fondly, leading her out of the enclosed space, down a couple steps more, and into a wide open space that has her gripping his fingers.

"I can _smell_ the sea," she grins over the sound of waves and rustling leaves, feeling the currents of air flutter around her bare legs. "Where did you bring me, brute?"

He untangles their arms, his fingers on the back of her head as he unties the made-up blindfold, letting it uncover her eyes.

She blinks as the material is removed from her face, and then her eyes go wide in awe.

The view is mesmerizing; the sky above them is pink, purple, orange and yellow at the same time, the soft blue fading into a deeper cerulean where the sea meets the sky. The white railing at the edge of the large terrace is a bit flaky, the peeled paint staining her palm when she grips it. She didn't even realize when her feet started moving, but she continues to observe the way the waves crash against each other, how the water drags the sand from the shore and into the depth of the ocean. She can hear the birds chirping somewhere around them, and she smiles suddenly. She knows where they are.

El turns her head, staring at him with dewy eyes as she extends a hand out. Mike smiles back, gripping her fingers and letting her pull him to her. He buries his face against the chestnut curls around her shoulders, his arms surrounding her as their hands meet on the railing. With a deep sigh, she leans back against him, closing her eyes as the cool air hits her face and makes him shiver.

A little bit behind them, there's a pool, the water low and dirty from being unused, leaves and seaweeds floating on the surface. To the left, a few feet away from the pool, there's a circular garden table, with design chairs and a long pole stuck in the middle that opens into a large, stripped umbrella that shields the furniture.

Right between the edge of the pool and the step that leads to the garden table, a large blanket is spread out on the floor. The hem is a little messy from the air, some debris caught in the soft material, with an arrange of pillows and more blankets on it. It's an odd contrast to the rest of the terrace, the dark purple blanket and the pale cushions, but it doesn't matter because _he_ did this.

"Do you like it?" Mike questions quietly when he notices her looking at the little nest he'd made for them.

She's kind of speechless, her mouth only moving to let her breath out, but she makes up for it with the emotions swirling in her eyes. She turns around in his arms, doe eyes a constellation of shimmering stars that blink up at him with every breeze of the sea. She wraps her arms around his neck, letting his forehead rest against hers as his curls tickle her face. "You're one of a kind, Mike Wheeler."

He feels the right side of his mouth twitch into a loose smile that he buries against her lips, hearing the soft sigh she exhales as they kiss. This feeling, the giant butterfly wings that flutter all the way from the bottom of his stomach to the middle of his chest, the one that makes his heart thump strongly against his ribs and his throat tighten up… he never wants this feeling to be over. Doesn't want _her_ to ever be over.

"Should I take this as a yes to my question?" He teases as she bites his lip, her fingers tangled on the curls at the back of his head.

"Yes," she nods, eyes heavy and mouth searching as she keeps on kissing him. "Yes, I love it."

 _I love you,_ he wants to say, he wants to _scream_. But he lets her ravage his mouth with hers for as long as she desires to, because he has all night to reveal his feelings for her, and, _well_ , it's not like he'll ever say no to kissing her.

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.

Her giggles echo around them as he sways her in his arms, a playful grin on his lips while her barefoot toes dance around the cold floor. _Every Breath You Take_ is playing from his phone, the song a bit muffled from the wind, but it doesn't matter because he could probably sing every note and lyric just from memory.

" _Baby, baby, pleaaase…"_ He sings against her lips, his fingers drumming along the bumps on her spine. She'd taken her jacket off along with her shoes, and the thin straps of her sundress slip down her arms every five minutes, something he appreciates very much because it gives him more skin-space to put his mouth on.

El sighs into the kiss, letting her tongue roll against his, a hand on his neck and the other resting against his ribcage. She can feel (pun intended) every breath he takes, every grunt he emits as she bites and licks at his mouth. She can't never get enough of him, and when she told him so, he had deepened the kiss, telling her he shared the feeling.

His fingertips skim up the bare skin of her thighs, the digits pulling the hem of her dress up and up and up, and she can't—she _doesn't_ want to find it within herself to stop him. His palm rests on her outer thigh, squeezing softly as she moans, fingertips running over the curve of her ass.

Mike breaks the kiss to _breathe,_ because _damnit_ , he is _not_ going to die from asphyxia, not now, not when she's kissing him like _this_ and she's looking at him like _that_. Like she wants to eat him with her eyes, like he's an oasis in the middle of the desert.

"El," he breathes against her neck, squeezing her ass and her hip as his pants get insufferably tight, the cool air around them not cold enough to get some of their steam off. She moans again, biting his bare shoulder as she leans on her tiptoes to press herself closer against him, her breath hot on his skin. "El… I—"

"I want to," she pants against his collarbone, her teeth scraping up his throat until her hands reach for his face. Her pupils are wide, hazy and warm, and she brushes their lips together when she finds his own darker than usual, lust heavy on his irises. "Mike… I want to." She murmurs quietly, tugging on his neck to meet his mouth, sucking his lower lip as he groans.

"Are… are you—are you sure?" Her hands are unbuttoning his pants, fingertips sneaking teasingly into the waistband of his underwear while he rubs the hem of her panties.

"Yes." She replies, stilling her movements for a minute to _make him see_ that she means it. She wraps her arms around his neck again, lifting herself on her tiptoes until he reaches down and wraps his forearms behind her thighs, hoisting her up on him. Her legs curl around his hips, and she has to huff a laugh out because _finally,_ she's eye to eye with him. "Yes," she repeats, staring into his eyes as her thumb traces his freckled cheekbone. She leans in to kiss him there, brushing her eyelashes against his nose because she knows it tickles him, and sure enough, he's smirking once she leans back. "I want to… have this with you. No one else… just you."

"Okay," his throat is tight again, and he shifts her on his arms, kissing her lips once more. "Okay."

Her feet touch the ground, his hands running from her thighs to her back and up her shoulders, where he leaves them at as he keeps on kissing her. Her fingers are back on his pants, lowering his zipper until it can't go further down. He's embarrassingly hard from the short time they've been touching each other, but he doesn't care, it's all because of her. She leans back, eyes heavy again as her hands go to her already bare shoulders. He watches in a daze as her fingers find the straps of her dress, lowering them down until the top falls from her chest, revealing her breasts for the first time to his eyes. He'd thought she wasn't wearing a bra from the lack of material under her dress, and he'd confirmed it when she was pressed up against him, catching a glimpse down her cleavage, but that wasn't anything near as breathtaking as she is right now.

Her nipples are tight and puckered from the air and from arousal, light brown on the globes of honey skin. Her breasts aren't too large nor small, a nice size with perky tips that feel amazing when he reaches out for them. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her mouth parted open as she pants for breath, watching his hands cover her chest as his thumbs run over the tight nubs.

"You're beautiful," he breathes as he pulls her closer, groaning with her as their bare chests press against each other. "And I'm not saying that just because you're naked. You're beautiful," he kisses her again, sighing softly on her mouth. "You're so beautiful, El."

Her hands push at the fabric bunched up on her hips until her dress falls to her feet. She kicks it away, letting herself get lost in the way her skin brushes against him. She doesn't know what it is, but it's like everything is on fire. Even though she's only wearing a pair of panties, she feels too hot, like her blood is liquid lava, warming up her insides as it reaches every part of her body. Every touch, every breath, every flutter… everything feels heavenly. She's so sensitive, that even a brush to her navel has her whimpering. _She_ feels amazing, powerful, like they're alone in the world.

He helps her push his heavy jeans down his hips, both breathing loudly as they try to take his pants down. He sighs in relief once they fall to his knees, and he kicks them away while walking her to the blanket. It's a miracle he doesn't trip them with his jeans, or worse, lets them fall into the pool, because he can't tear his eyes away from her. She's honestly the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She's a masterpiece, he doesn't know what she's doing with him when she should be in a glass case at the Louvre.

The sight of her leaning back against the pillows will forever be engraved in his mind. Her eyes are heavy-lidded and the spark in them is slightly dimmed with haziness. The air around them makes her skin erupt in goosebumps, and they cover the expanse of her neck. Mike takes in the rosiness of her flushed cheeks as he leans down against her, resting his weight on his forearms as to not crush her.

El reaches out and sneaks her arms under his, pressing her palms to his ribs and tracing a slow path to his back. She can't get enough of the feel of him, and while it is not the first time she's been in contact with his bare torso, _this_ , she knows, is different. Her lips fall open as he buries his nose under her chin, his warm breath sending tingles down her body, pebbling the tips of her breasts and rising the hairs on her arms.

His mouth sucks at the skin of her neck, biting lightly as her hands spasm against his shoulder blades. He kisses the juncture of her neck and collarbone, licking a stripe down the middle of her chest until he pauses at the hills of her breasts, sending electric shivers down her spine. Her toes curl when he looks up at her and she feels her stomach collapse into a puddle.

"Can I touch you?" He murmurs, nose pressed to the bone between the protruding globes on her front, elbows resting on the blanket beside her waist and hands framing her ribcage.

It's kind of silly to ask when he's _right there_ , he knows that, but he just wants to make sure she's still comfortable. And by the way she nods and licks her lips in awaiting, she still is.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he lowers his lips to one of her breasts, taking the tip between his teeth, and the sight is so _erotic_ to her that she instantly groans, closing her eyes to feel the heightened sensation of his wet and hot mouth on her. He takes his time; kitten licks and soft tugs that later fade into rougher sucks and gentle bites.

Her legs are on either side of his hips now, not trapped between his thighs anymore to give him more room to move in.

One of his hands leaves her side to tease the skin below her navel, trapped between his stomach and hers. His fingers snap the waistband of her panties teasingly, grinning against the underside of her breast as she makes a choked sound.

She chokes again when he runs the pad of his index finger against her clothed mound.

"Here?" He questions again, pausing to rest his cheek against her chest, hand stilling on her panties. "Can I touch you here?"

El nods quickly, reaching out to run her fingers through his thick hair, and letting a whine out when he starts rubbing circles over her underwear, applying pressure.

Her hips jerk up when one of his fingers presses tighter than the others, sinking between her folds with the fabric still acting as a barrier between skin and skin.

Mike is still on her chest, content on watching her closed her eyes and hitched breath as his fingers work her up. His boner is pulsing, demanding him to give it some attention, but he can't take his eyes away from El's face.

Hesitantly, he snakes his fingers through the side of her panties, touching skin for the first time. Her eyes spring open and he freezes, trying to gauge her reaction, but she doesn't let him stop for long. Her hand reaches down to grip his wrist in a surprisingly confident touch.

"Go on," she whispers breathily, moving his wrist up and down, making him slide his fingers through her slickness. "Don't stop." He groans at that, thoroughly loving the way she's enjoying this.

Mike makes his way down her body, the dampness of his breath leaving her skin sensitive to the salty air around them. His mouth presses against her stomach, his tongue swirling around the indented hole of her bellybutton, and he leaves an open mouthed kiss to her tattoo while his fingertips trace the skin of her thighs teasingly, feeling her knees quiver under him.

She whines low in her throat, knowing what he's about to do and torn between closing her eyes to just _focus_ on the sensation and hide from the natural embarrassment of him getting so _face-to-face_ down there, and keeping her gaze on him to fulfill her curiosity on the topic she's only seen in textbooks and that one video Max showed her when the redhead was talking about the greatness of oral sex.

His breath hits her skin in a rushed blow that has her looking down to realize he's staring at her. "You're distracted. Stop getting lost in that brilliant mind of yours and focus. It's going to get really embarrassing for me if you don't react." He chuckles against her thigh, and she finds it within herself to giggle back, feeling the tension on her shoulders drift away a little. He's absolutely right, of course. She should stop overanalyzing everything and just… enjoy herself. And him; because he's very enjoyable.

"Okay," she whispers, reaching a hand down to thumb at his lips, lifting herself on an elbow, because _damnit all_ if she's not going to watch. "Get to work then, sir."

"Bossy." He grins, biting her inner thigh lightly before sitting up on his knees.

His hands make quick work of getting rid of her panties, and she blames it on the cool air when her knees knock together as the fabric slips down her calves. Her breath kind of stutters in her chest as he flings the garment somewhere over her shoulder, and she hates herself for letting the nerves back in again.

"It's okay," Mike coaxes gently, leaning in to kiss her lips sweetly, resting a hand on one of her closed legs. "We don't have to—"

"Shut up." She mumbles against his lips, kissing him again to distract herself as her knees fall open over the blanket. "I want this."

El takes great pleasure in the way his eyes instantly snap closed with a hitched groan after he takes a peek down, catching pink bareness and soft skin. "It's okay," she whispers teasingly, feeling suddenly emboldened, which she's grateful for. "It's just a vag—"

"El, I'm going to kill you."

"Just as long as we do this first. I refuse to die a virgin."

His shoulders shake with laughter as she presses her nose there, smiling against the freckles because, _holy shit,_ this is it, she's really going to lose her v-card.

"We better fix that, then." Mike mutters against her cheek, kissing her face repeatedly while her fingers trace the fabric on his hips and that's when she realizes he still isn't naked.

"Hey," she says breathlessly, because he's currently nosing at her collarbone while his tongue teases the valley of her breasts, and she's finding it hard to focus. "You're still wearing this."

Her fingers tug on the elastic of his underwear, grinning when the fabric slaps his skin as she sits up. "I know it's only my first time but I'm pretty sure you have to be naked in order to have sex."

"You want me naked?" _Fuck,_ he's doing that voice and it instantly numbs the playfulness in her tone, reviving the heavy cloud of arousal around them. "Why don't you take matters into your own hands?"

"You want me to take it in my hands?" His groan is quiet, like he's trying to muffle it, but she's been around him long enough to be able to play along, and she has become kind of a master in teasing him, so she bites her lips to prevent her oncoming laughter and just concentrates on him.

She leaves both her ring and pinky finger higher than the others as her thumbs hook on the waistband of his boxers and lower them down, smiling as her last two digits trace his bared skin, and it's only when his underwear is down to his knees she realizes he was holding his breath. She watches his ribcage rise and fall while he shifts to shake the boxers off. El has been telling herself not to think and let herself flow with it, so when her brain screams at her to _do something_ with the pale smoothness in front of her face, she doesn't think twice as she leans in and presses her mouth to his stomach.

She feels him release a harsh breath somewhere above her head, and a shiver runs borderline violently down her spine as he presses a hand between her shoulder blades, moving down to bringing her closer and take her mouth with his.

Her legs are wide open as he sits on his thighs between her knees, which are nearly touching the blanket, as he kisses her, and she's only distantly aware of what's brushing against her arm as she clutches his hips. There's a mildly desperate edge in them as they make out, and she feels her insides clench when he thrusts against her thigh.

The arm around her neck shakes slightly while his other hand presses against her cheek, keeping her still as his tongue teases the roof of her mouth. Her chest feels tight and hard, and she has to break the kiss to breathe, gasping when his hips roll against her again.

Mike's large hands caress her back as he lays her down, mumbling something while biting the inner flesh of her boob. She registers the words ' _adore'_ and ' _fish'_ and something that may be _'this dick cannot'_ or _'this is so hot'_. She can't decide which one. He's not talking properly and she can't hear right with all the buzzing in her ears, so she decides it does not matter.

She honestly feels like a quivering mess by the time he's making his way down her front again, and she even startles herself with the loud gasp that escapes her throat the minute his mouth is on her.

It's wet and messy and all kinds of hot; the blanket is a wrinkled clump of fabric as she tightens her hands into fists, legs shaking as he wraps his arms around her thighs to keep her still, and she feels like pure fire is sliding down the notches of her spine as his tongue finds the little nub of nerves and bites down on it. Her mouth is open and her eyebrows furrowed together, her ass pushing down and up from the floor, trying to either escape his lips or smother them in her, she can't decide. She can't even _think,_ and she feels an amount of pressure that has her gasping out his name, finding the strength to lift herself on her forearms. The sight of his eyes closed and his sweaty curls pasted on his forehead while his face moves up and down is way too pleasurable to her, and she reaches a shaky hand out to grip those messy curls… well, just because she _can_ and _wants_ to.

His eyes snap open and instantly move up to meet hers, and he's not prepared for the view. Her chest and neck are flushed, little specks of red against puckered skin, but is not her body that makes him harder. Her eyes are hooded, hazel brown completely blown as her dilated pupils track his movements. Her eyelashes flutter with every flick of his tongue, her breath hitching with every rasp of his teeth on her tender flesh, and her stormy gaze keeps getting hidden by her eyelids, seemingly trying to keep themselves open but not quite managing to.

He doesn't blame her. He too finds it hard to focus enough to multitask. It was easier with his eyes closed, just feeling the soft squishiness of her mound and the silky liquid flowing from it. But she was too damn stunning to take his gaze off from her face, so he kind of has to force his brain to keep sending the damn order to his eye-sight. He hadn't really counted on his own body to respond so vibrantly to his ministrations. His back shudders every time a whine or moan, or _any kind of sound_ makes its way past her lips, and he's finding it very hard not to make a hole on the ground by the way his hips keep on grinding against it. He's _so ready_ for this, but he wants to make her slick first, wants to make her throb until she's _right_ at that edge. Even if it means his penis might fall off in the process.

"Mike," El tugs on his hair, arching her back as her legs tense even more. "Mike, I-I… _fuck_. I can't!" He knows her orgasm is approaching by the way she drops back onto the pillows, head thrown back and breath caught in her throat, and that's when he knows he needs to stop.

She feels some kind of relief when he removes his mouth from her, along with a huge wave of frustration, but then a finger makes its way past her folds, circling around until it touches her entrance and pushes inside. She presses her lips together in an attempt to control her breathing, widening her legs to accommodate his hand and getting lost in the feeling of his second finger. She's read so many books with sex scenes in which the virgin girl feels a stretching of sorts, but she isn't new to fingering (nearly 18 and lonely nights with herself gave way to curiosity and e _xploration_ and all that shit) and he _really_ loosened her up.

It feels _good_ , the way the roundness of his fingertips brush against something inside while the digits move back and forth in her canal, and it feels even better when she finally opens her eyes again to catch Mike staring at her. His dark eyes are hungrily taking her in, lips shining with whatever he licked down there, and his other hand is taking care of a very hard member of his that is standing proudly up.

El feels instantly selfish, because there she was, just taking everything he gave her like a champ while his pleasure was pushed to the back in favor of her own. "Come here." She croaks at him, extending a hand out while her eyes stare greedily at the way he touches himself. It looks easy enough, it's not rocket science, but she's never done this and she's the tiniest bit of afraid to hurt him. The rumbling moan he gifts her when she finally wraps her hand around him is more than plenty to crush that.

Mike's fingers still inside her for a minute, breathing hard through his nostrils as her small hand pumps the skin on his shaft, squeezing the base gently in hesitation before tightening her hold in a firmer grip. He lets himself enjoy her touch for a while longer, encouraging her with coaxing words and following the pull of her hand with his hips, before he returns to his previous job, curling his fingers upwards and touching a spongy spot that has El crying out.

"Is this okay?" He pants wetly against her ear, back hunched as he hovers over her, fingers still curling and sliding around her flesh while her hand works him up. "Is this good?"

"Good," she nods quickly, pulling him down fully on top of her. Her face scrunches up in pleasure at the feel of him, warm and sweaty, lying against her body. " _So good_."

He knows that if his dick had a voice, it would be screaming at the top of its non-existent lungs to use it, and he knows he _should_ because El is a quick learner, and apparently, she already found out that if she rubs her thumb around the slit on his tip, he shudders and moans, and she seems to like that.

To put it simply and cliché-y, he knows he won't last if they keep fueling each other up like this.

"Do you think… do you think you're ready?" He has to force the words out, gulping with effort as her knees start to knock at his hips again.

"What do you think?" It's what she retorts breathlessly, and he wants to chuckle at the way she still is a smartass with his fingers buried inside her and her own fist around his cock.

His hand fumbles around the pillows and after, on the bare floor, trying to find his jeans, and he huffs with annoyance when he realizes they're not at arm's reach. He looks up, spotting them a few feet down from where they're laying. "Wait a second." He mumbles on her lips, giving her a quick smooch before pulling away.

He stands and walks over to the pants, fishing for the condom he knows is stashed in one of the pockets while his dick throbs painfully. It's not until his wrinkled and wet fingers touch foil that he sighs in relief.

"Wrap it then tap it." He snickers, holding the blue pocket between his middle and pointer finger, falling to his knees in front of her while she shivers slightly.

"Oh, God, you're such an idiot." El covers her face with both hands, hiding the smile from his eyes as she hears the condom being opened. Her hands fall against her bare chest to shield her sensitive skin from the cold air, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes as he pulls the little latex circle from the package. She bursts out in laughter when he starts to roll it on his member.

"What?" Mike asks, stilling his hands.

"It's green," she giggles, pointing a finger to the vibrantly colorful condom around him. "It's freaking green."

"Well, it's the only kind I have. I didn't exactly _plan_ this to happen today." He says, a little defensive as he finishes rolling the rubber on, and while he's not complaining or stopping, it's true. He didn't bring her here to have sex, he just wanted to do something nice and curl up on the blanket while… _okay_ , maybe a grope or two, but he didn't plan it. Still, he has to chuckle along when she continues to laugh. "Stop!"

"It looks like you're going to fuck me with a cucumber." She smirks, widening her legs and cradling him in her arms as he crawls on top of her.

"Oh, but I'm not going to _fuck_ you." He grins deviously, biting her chin gently. "I'm going to make _sweet, passionate, intense, delicate, careful—"_

"Mike!"

"—magical _love_ to you."

"Ugh, you're so cheesy." She groans teasingly, a smile still tugging at her lips.

"And you want to know why?" He questions against her neck, kissing the column of her throat as he waits for her answer.

"Why?" She indulges affectionately, nuzzling his hair while she runs a hand up his smooth back.

He pulls back, shifting to lean on an elbow while he pushes a curl behind her ear with gentle fingers, tracing her cheekbone and the smooth firmness of her temple as his face sobers up.

 _This is it_ , he tells himself. _This is how you tell her._

"Because I love you, El." Mike says softly, thumb tracing the hard edge of her jaw.

His eyes swim with vulnerability and honesty, sparks of doubt shining in the corners, and she couldn't understand why the time seemed to stop.

She knew she loved him, and had hoped he did as well, but to hear the words out of his perfectly shaped lips was a whole other level of imagination. She is fucking _swooning,_ her throat dry with surprise and her chest tight with emotions and her slit still wet with arousal, but she was rendered speechless.

With a wobbly smile, she laughs.

She is _fucking laughing,_ what the hell? Mike was starting to think that it was best if he slipped inside and made her come to distract himself from the obvious pain of her not returning his feelings, when his thoughts are shut down by her lips on his.

"Mike," she grins, kissing him again and again, because he loves her and he wasn't afraid to say it, which meant she could say it back. "I love you too."

"Really?" He _had_ to ask, even if his own heart was telling him to stop playing the angsty fool. He _knew_ she loved him. She might have not said it before, but her actions and her fucking eyes were always warm and welcoming and they expressed everything she wasn't saying, but she was telling him _now_.

"Yes, really." El chuckled, catching his lower lip between hers and pulling him down over her body again. They kiss for a few minutes, pausing to breathe and to laugh, because they are finally out in the open. Which made Mike laugh again, because they _literally are_ out in the open, with the cool breeze howling around them and the waves crashing against each other in the distance, but most importantly, with their hearts out for the other to take.

She's so giddy with the recent revelations that she doesn't pay Mike any attention, only nodding at him to proceed. But she kind of snaps back to reality when she feels a burning at her entrance, and realizes he's pushing inside of her.

"It's okay," Mike murmurs tightly, pushing her hair back in a soothing touch as she whines slightly from the stretch. _So that's what those books meant,_ El thinks as she breathes out. "It's okay. I'll go slow, okay?"

She holds her breath, feeling him go deeper and her insides making room for him, but Max once told her that it was easier if you did it in one quick push, kind of like ripping a band-aid.

"No," So that's what she goes for. "Let's do this." Without giving it a second thought, she wraps her legs around his hips, pressing the heels of her feet against his ass and promptly pushing him fully inside of her in one quick roll of her hips.

It burned like hell.

"Oh. Oh, _God_ , that was not a good idea." She manages through gritted teeth, feeling his tip bump something inside as her walls throb in a dull ache. _Fucking Max didn't say anything about the band-aid slicing her flesh._

"I told you we'd go slow." Mike groans out, huffing out an exhale which he buries against her neck. She's tight and hot and wet, and all his instincts are screaming at him to thrust and to _take,_ but he _won't_ , because this is _El_ , this is his girlfriend, the girl he very much let steal his heart out of his freaking chest, and he'll walk through shattered glass before he hurts her like this.

Because the redhead was already on her mind- which, _okay_ , Mike would kind of freak out if he knew El was thinking of her best friend while having sex with him—like a faded memory, Max's advice on the day she skipped school flows back into her brain. Releasing a shaky breath, El grips Mike's shoulders and relaxes her pelvis, loosening her insides a bit in the process.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks quietly, concern sketched on his face as he tries to stay as still as possible.

"Yeah." El pants shiftily, trying to steady the thump of her heart. "And you?"

"Fucking fantastic." He answers easily, but she can't tell if he's joking or not. Still, amidst the situation and the undeniable awkwardness their first time had taken, she finds it funny. "You seriously concern me." Mike mutters through a grin, watching the way her bare shoulders shake against the blanket and the wide grin that stretches over her face.

"Ow," El grimaces through her laughter, feeling the soreness between her legs and the intruding appendage that caused it. "I shouldn't be laughing. I don't even know what I'm laughing at."

"You have issues," Mike grins amusedly, trying to not pay attention to his second head. "I love you, but you have issues."

"That rolls real easy out of your tongue." El observes, tracing the length of his nose with a finger, feeling her walls flutter as he shifts slightly.

"Truth tends to do that."

"Yeah. Love you too, by the way."

"Thanks for leaving me hanging for a second time."

"Shut up, Wheeler." She makes a contemplating face, eyebrows furrowing quickly, before she moves her hand to the back of his head, fingers curling through his hair and pushing his lips down to hers. "I think it's okay if you move now." She sighs quietly against his mouth, sharing his breath as he does what she said.

It doesn't make the ache go away, but she was expecting it this time, so she nods at him and endures a fourth thrust, nodding again at the fifth, and sighs at the sixth one.

"Good?" Mike mumbles against her mouth, his thumb tracing the curve of her breast as he continues to move.

"Uh-huh." She sighs, closing her eyes as pleasure begins to take the pain away. There are tiny shocks pulsing down her back, shivers running from neck to waist and making her breath catch in her throat. It's starting to feel really good, like what the books said it would be like after the pinch of pain left.

Her right calf slips up and down Mike's ass and thigh with his movements, and her skin is starting to get heated by the warm puffs of his breath against her neck. The slide of him inside her feels incredible, hard velvet stroking the fleshy tunnel, his sweaty chest pressed against hers, and she blinks her eyes open as he moans.

"You can go a little faster." She coaxes, staring at his expression. His face is scrunched up, nose turned at the tip and mouth slightly open as he continues to thrust into her. He is clearly enjoying this, and just the sight of him has her shivering in pleasure.

Her throat clogs a little when he speeds up, his pelvis hitting hers and his length plunging deeper as a result. He hooks a hand behind her slipping knee and rises it higher on his hip, opening her up further to his ministrations. She cries out because of it, feeling the head of his shaft hit a spot inside of her that has her quivering, and her nails leave crescent-moon indents on his shoulder and back.

Mike smothers a grunt on her breast, taking the tip in his mouth and sucking the fleshy globe with hunger. El's pants are loud, the tiny hitches in her breath broken and cut short by the never-ending shivers cruising over her. She feels amazing, like she's lying on a bed of fire and she's flame-repellent. Her core throbs with every rock of Mike's hips, feeling her legs start to shake again. She was close when it was just foreplay, but now that they're doing the real thing, it feels like she's hanging off a cliff.

And she wants to dive head-first when his fingers rub her clit.

Her hips snap up to meet his at the first press on her nub, and she discovers that if she moves, the pleasure she's feeling turns up one or two notches, which she desperately seeks.

"Mike- _god_." She whines frantically, gripping his shoulder blades as he moves his arms down, holding her ass in his palms to tilt her hips up. If it could get any better, this is exactly what it took.

With his mouth on her wet breasts, his shaft pumping in and out of her at a deliciously rapid pace, his finger rubbing furiously at her clit and his gasps smothering her hearing, she feels… overwhelmed. In a good way. Like she's getting everything she wants but it still isn't enough. She _needs_ more. More of _him_ , more of _this_ , just- _more. More, more, more._

"More." She isn't even aware she's thinking out loud, but Mike is, and with a low growl, he decides to let go.

Her cry gets buried inside his own mouth as he kisses her fervently, snapping their hips together as his thumb rubs maddeningly quick and hard at her bundle of nerves, knowing that if he presses just… _there,_ right in the middle, she will be gone.

And sure enough, El scratches down his back in a desperate attempt to ground herself. She feels sanity leave her body and a crazy need to chase the electric ray of lightening down her spine, fulfilling her wish with every grind of their joined centers.

"I'm… I'm… _jesus fuck!"_

"Look at me," Mike pants against her mouth, moving a hand from her butt to grip her jaw. "Open your eyes and look at me, El." She manages to, with some difficulty as her eyes seem happily content with staying in the dark, but she wants to see him. Wants to see if the craziness she's feeling is obvious in her gaze and if he shares it with her.

"I think… I think I'm coming."

"Let go," he murmurs, greedily kissing her lips as their pelvises smack together in search of release. "Come on, El."

" _Agh_ , is this… is this what an orgasm feels like?" She somehow questions through the blurriness in her eyes, gripping the back of his head and pressing their foreheads together.

"I need you to come," Mike breathes out hurriedly, wincing as his balls start to tighten in that familiar squeeze. "I need you to come because I can't hold on any longer."

"It's okay if you do it first." El whispers through a shudder. It would be God-sent if she came in the next few seconds, but she also wants to see his O-face, and she's not that naïve to believe that couples come together all the time. Besides, she won't be too far behind.

"Oh, great," Mike croaks out, grunting and moaning as he feels himself start to leak. "I'm coming. I'm— _fuck_. _El_ —"

His breath breaks into a soundless gasp, mouth open against her chin as he starts to spasm, and he clutches her ass as he feels himself shoot his load in her. His shoulders shudder violently, his calves tensing and his toes spreading wide while he closes his eyes tightly. He nearly sees pink starts exploding behind his eyelids, feeling his brain short-cut and everything going blank at once.

His movements stop for a moment, his body growing limp in her arms as his orgasm ripples through him. She kind of gasps/grunts because of the way he's nearly burying himself inside of her, pushing as far and as deep as he can, like he never wants to leave her warmth. It's hot and he's still pulsing, and her clit is still a sensitive mess, so she helps him ride the waves by pushing up against him, feeling the twitches of his member on her inner walls, the roughness of his pubic hair against her slickness, and the moistness of his breathing on her skin.

Mike gains his senses back a few minutes later, feeling the gasping form of his girlfriend grinding against him in an attempt to join him over the edge, and he shakes himself awake enough to help her. His hand unclenches from her ass and he traces a path to her clit again, rubbing in circles as his other hand tugs at one of her nipples and his mouth lazily covers hers, licking his way inside and sucking on her trembling lip.

"Mike, I want—"

"I know," he interrupts, biting her neck, getting a yelp out of her as his nail scratches lightly down her clit. "I know what you want." He's growing soft inside of her, but he still uses his member to create the friction she needs. That, along with the scorching from her clitoris that somehow burns even at the soles of her feet, is enough to plunge her out into the abysm.

Her eyes widen under his stare, feeling all her senses tighten into a ball until it can no longer hold them all together and- _she bursts._

Her toes curl so hard she will later be afraid she might have broken her pinky, but she really doesn't care at the moment because she feels… kind of _high_. Like the world spins around her but she can't do a thing because she's somehow underwater, hearing everything but _muffled_ , like her senses have been put on pause.

But her heart is still beating- strongly, she might add- and the love she feels for Mike is ever present as he coaches her through her orgasm, murmuring softly against her temple as he retracts his fingers from her nether regions, placing them next to her shoulders.

The world could have shattered around her, but he was still with her, and that's all she could focus on.

.

.

.

"Are you alive?" Mike mutters groggily next to her ear, caressing her other cheek as he waits for her answer.

It takes her a moment to find her voice again. "Kind of," she croaks out, licking her lips before turning her head to the side, finding his eyes instantly. "You?"

"Barely," his mouth tugs up into a smile, and she matches his grin as the exhilaration of what just happened finally hits them. "But I'll manage."

El chuckles, closing her eyes again to bask on the aftermath of their first time. She supposes the book would describe her as _glowing_ , _or whatever_ , but she feels sweaty and sticky, and there's still a penis inside of her, so she can't really glow at the moment.

"Hey," Mike calls for her attention, shifting until he's resting on his forearms instead of crushing her. "I'm going to… get… out. Of you, I mean."

"I know, I'm not stupid, you ass."

"El, seriously, your mouth won't ever fail to surprise me."

"And this was only the first time. Imagine what's to come." She giggles teasingly, lightly slapping his ribs. "Go ahead, Musketeer."

She bites her lips when he slips out of her, feeling surprisingly empty and just the kind of sore she was expecting. Still, the sight of the bloodied condom around his limp member is kind of shocking.

"Ew," she says as she watches him roll it off and tie it, preventing anything from slipping out. "The cucumber has gone bad."

"It's just a little blood," Mike shrugs unconcernedly. "It's normal for your first time."

"I know, silly." She rolls her eyes lightly. "Where are you going to put that?"

"We should leave it in the pool," Mike smirks suddenly, glancing over his shoulder in contemplation. "That way we'll always be here."

"That's disgusting and overly incriminating. Our DNA is in that condom. We can't leave any traces here."

"Spoken like a true serial killer. Why am I not surprised?" He mutters to himself, eying their surroundings and jumping to his feet when he spots a plastic bag caught in a corner. He wobbles slightly, making a face. "This is the first time I'm sore after sex."

"It's the El effect." She smiles easily, watching his butt jiggle as he walks. Trusting him to not leave their trash around, she rises up on her forearms and looks down at herself, noticing the faint finger marks on her hips and the redness of her breast. There are smudges of blood on her inner thigs, but surprisingly, she doesn't feel scared or _that_ grossed out. Like he said, it's just blood.

"Come on," Mike reappears next to her, holding her dress and his pants. "It's getting too cold out here. We should go inside."

She takes the hand he extends to her and only grunts a little from the uncomfortable ache on the lower part of her body. Mike guides her to the left, where a large bedroom is. There's a four-poster bed with white sheets that immediately summons her, but she stops as she remembers that this isn't really her house, and that she has some body fluids stuck to her legs still.

"Here," Mike throws their blanket over the sheets, extending it so it covers most of the mattress. "I'll go get the pillows from outside. There's a bathroom there." He points to a door on the right, leaving their clothes and her bag on the bed. "Try to get clean, okay?"

"You don't like my dirty look?" She teases, taking his shirt from his hand.

"I would be lying if I said I don't," Mike smiles, gripping the sides of her face and giving her a short kiss. "But I could go without seeing the blood."

She pulls back with an eye roll. "Men and their fear of periods. You are so weird."

"Hey, don't generalize. I grew up with a sister who educated me very well on your lady topics."

" _Lady topics_." She snorts, walking to the bathroom with her bag and leaving him to walk back outside.

Although the house is on sale, the water still seems to be functioning, so she scoops some on her hands and tries not to grimace at the metallic scent staining her palms as she wipes her thighs. There's a mirror above the sink, and even though it seems a bit stupid because, _c'mon,_ virginity is a social concept that is not at all physically visible, she still looks at herself for any traces of what just happened.

There are no harsh marks or any kind of resemblance to adulthood on her face. Losing her v-card made her feel some kind of maturity, like she reached a new level of growth, which is stupid and ignorant of her to think, but she still smiles as she takes some makeup-remover wipes from her bag and continues to clean herself. Because whether she wanted it or not, the first time was important for many people, and she isn't going to be dishonest and say it doesn't mean the same for her.

Once she's satisfied with her clean-up, she grabs Mike's stripped cotton shirt and pulls it on, basking in the scent that clings to it, and pulling at the hem in light self-consciousness. Well, it's not like he hasn't seen every part of her now.

When she walks out of the bathroom, she finds him sitting on the bed with his boxers on, his phone in one hand and a little pout on his lips.

"What happened?"

"I forgot we had music playing." He shrugs, pursing his lips in light annoyance while she puts her panties on and crawls to rest against the pillows, her foot teasingly bumping against his back. "My phone died and I need to text my sister."

"Do you know her number?" El questions as she lazily eyes her things, pondering over if she should text Sara in case she needs an alibi besides Max. "You can use mine."

"Thanks. She just doesn't like it when I'm home late and I don't text her first." Mike shares as he takes her phone and gestures for her fingerprint. Once she unlocks it, he makes quick work on the _iMessage_ and sends Nancy a text, telling her he'll let her know if he's going to be home really late or not going at all. It all depends on El. And also on the fact if they will be overstaying their unauthorized visit to this house.

"Hey," he says once he's done, moving to lie beside her. "What did you tell your mom? Should I take you to Max's, just in case? Or should we go to my house?"

"Let's not worry about that now," she mumbles, curling around him like a cat. "I want to take a nap."

"Your naps are kind of dangerous, you know? They can be 10 minutes long or half a day." He chuckles against her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"I'll get up before midnight. And then we'll see if your sister is willing to let me stay over." Mike had only told her to pack an overnight bag, but he hadn't shared where they would be at (obviously to not ruin the surprise). Although it would be ideal to stay right here, it's kind of risky too. They don't know if the owners are still around, or if any person comes to check on the house, and it would be disastrous if anyone found them in… _the crime scene_ (there _is_ a broken window).

She's also more than curious and willing to go to Mike's place. She wants to see where he spends his nights, what color are the walls in his room, what kind of clothes hang in his closet. She wants to just- _be_ in _his_ zone. There's also the chance to finally meet Nancy, the only family Mike ever talks fondly about.

They are quiet for some minutes, Mike rubbing her arm for warmth and pulling the other blankets tighter around them when the wind starts entering the house. He feels sticky from the sweat, but he's far too happy with their position to move. And it feels kind of weird to get showered in a stranger's house. It's bad enough he broke them in, let alone use their stuff; he's got to draw a line somewhere.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks her a while later, remembering the smears of rusty orange on her skin.

"Not really," she mumbles back, tracing the dimples at the bottom of his spine. "It was just… weird, at first. But then it was fine."

"More than fine, I dare to say." He smirks casually, rubbing his thumb on the crease below her elbow.

"… yeah," she peers up at him with a smile, too relaxed for teasing. "It was more than fine. Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?" He kisses her softly. "I should be thanking you. It was my first time too."

"Mike!" She laughs, hitting his side lightly.

"I mean it!" He chuckles, kissing her cheek quickly. "Remember that day at the pool when you said you'd never been with anyone _like_ _that_? Well," he continues after her affirmative hum. "I've never been with anyone like _this_. I'm telling you, this is the first time I… _make love_ , and no matter how corny it sounds, it's true."

Her smile is buried against his neck, trying to cool herself off, because as much as she hates the cheesy term, it _is_ true. This, what they feel and what they share with each other, is no ordinary hook up.

"I love you." El mutters against his throat, pressing a kiss there.

"I love you more." Mike whispers against her temple, inhaling her scent.

"Not possible."

" _Yes_ possible."

"Well, I love you from here to the ocean."

"Lame," he teases. "That's too close. I love you from here to France."

"Well, I love you from here to the sky."

"I love you more than that." He rebuts childishly, smiling lovingly at her.

"Yeah? How much?"

"I love you from here to three steps above heaven."

Her laughter is melodic and apparently infectious, because soon he's joining her. It may be cheesy and corny, and all kinds of food-oriented descriptions, but it's all true. _They_ 're true.

Their laughter is carried out of the house with the fast currents of the wind, breezing through the flimsy curtains and toying with the sand by the shore, until it melts against the crashing waves of the sea, capturing their moment for the future years, and at least for that night, everything seems bright.


	13. The geek and the cokehead

**A/N: Hey, babies! Did you miss me? I'm back! I realized I never wrote how Mike formally asked El out lol, so I thought I'd include that in (even if it is a flashback).**

 **Boss-ass bitch Nancy is my kink. Man, I love a multitasking woman. It's everything I aspire to be. I googled cute coffee mugs because all I have in my house are plain ceramic ones and town souvenirs, so I wanted Nance to have some colorful ones, and out of all I found, I liked the two included better (the crime one, c'mon, she's a lawyer. How perfect?!)**

 **I know I said I'd start rocking the boat a bit in this perfect Mileven sea, and I totally plan on doing so, but I want them to reach some milestones as a couple before shit hits the fan.**

 **This chapter doesn't really add anything to the plot, but I wanted to write some domestic Mileven along with Nancy and Papa. Also, STOP FUCKING SEARCHING THE MOVIEEE! NEXT ONE WHO TELLS ME THEY ARE DYING FROM THE ENDING AND WANTS ME TO CHANGE THAT IN THIS AU IS GETTING BLOCKED! (Not really, but STOP! For God's sake!) I know I said in the beginning to look it up so you could get the visuals, but I pretty much sent you all to get spoilers. STOP! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!**

 **My birthday was on Thursday and my family came over to have some cake and pizza (my immediate family, which is, like, 20 people. Mexicans know lol), and then I threw myself a great party with my friends' help (I got hella drunk and had two friends vomit all over my house. Fun!), so that led to two consecutive no-sleep nights that resulted in a terrible pharyngitis. My ass hurts from getting shots and this semester is already taking a toll on me, but I find it relaxing to write. So, there's that. I hope this mood continues for some more months.**

 **As always, leave me a nice comment! Reviews are my payment! Send me a belated happy birthday wish by telling me if you liked this chapter :)**

* * *

In the end, they do decide to leave the beach house.

"You're sure your sister won't mind?" El asks seriously as she grabs her jacket, righting the strap of her dress up her shoulder for what it feels like the millionth time.

"El," Mike chuckles, folding one of the blankets. "It's my home too. Besides, I've never introduced her to a girl before. I think she'll actually be happy."

She nods, trying to blame the nervous wringing of her hands on the low temperature. It's pretty exciting to finally meet the infamous Nancy, but it's kind of nerve-wracking too. The fact that she'll be the first girl Mike brings around his sister pushes the bar a few notches up.

"You ready to go?" He questions, curling an arm around her back.

"Yeah." She meets him halfway when he pulls his face down for a kiss, shivering slightly as the cold wind continues to swipe through the room. "You know, now that I've experienced living here for a night, I'm not sure I'd like it."

"Jesus Christ, you're saying that _now_? Just when I signed a deal with the owners?!" Mike slaps his forehead in faux exasperation, getting a giggle out of her.

"I'm just saying," she toys with the zipper of his jacket, feeling the smoothness of the leather under her fingertips. "The sea is right outside and the temperature drops way too low at night. I like the cold weather, just not enough to live in it."

"Well, I guess I won't be buying this house for us anymore." He rolls his eyes teasingly, shaking his head as she starts laughing. "I'll have to call the owners again. Say my girlfriend doesn't approve of her dream house anymore. I'll have more paperwork to sign, money to retreat, have my real estate agent looking for another place—"

"Mike!" El clamps a hand against his mouth, shaking with laughter as he continues to muffle behind her palm. "Stop it!"

He chuckles amusedly, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. Reaching out to push some of her hair away, his thumb lingers on her cheek, tracing the plumpness of the bone and the hollow underneath it. She truly is a masterpiece. "How did I get so lucky?"

She looks down, biting her lip as a blush flourishes across her face. "If I'd known you were such a sap—"

"Then what?" He interrupts, a wide smirk growing over his lips. "You wouldn't date me?"

"No," she reaches out to tug on his curls, trying to suppress her laughter. "I would've run for the hills."

"Oh, is that so?" He pulls her closer, the hand on her back slipping to her ribs, where he knows she's ticklish. "There are no hills available, silly girl."

"Then I would've run for the ocean." She giggles, trying to escape his tickling.

"The waves would swallow you whole." He wraps his arms around her, preventing her escape as she starts to shriek with laughter.

"Then I would've flown away!" She nearly screams, managing to turn around in his hold as he continues to tickle her.

"The plane crashes!" He says dramatically, trying to maintain his hold on her as she bucks against him. "What do you do now, ugly fish?"

"I have powers," she yelps, going with his narration as he curls an arm around her collarbones to keep her upper body stuck to his. "I see the plane crash before I get on it so I take a train instead."

"I ambush your train," he can feel her laughter against his forearm, the skin of her throat moving as she speaks and gasps. "I have blocked the exits and you're trapped. There's no escaping me."

He loses his balance and goes down with her as she lunges for the bed. "Your overwhelming need to corner me makes you forget how powerful I am," El continues, thrashing against the covers as Mike tries to pin her down, moving to sit on top of her. "I snap your neck with my mind and I run away."

" _You_ _kill me?!_ " He pauses suddenly, and that's enough for her to throw him off, making him land on his side. "There you go again with your assassin tendencies!"

"And then I steal your bike—"

" _And_ thievery?!"

"Driving out of the train station before anyone can stop me. I think I go to the beach again," she pants, pushing hair away from her face with a thoughtful expression as Mike tries to control his breathing next to her. "Seeing as you're no longer after me, I can swim peacefully, and if the waves get too crazy, I can control them with my mind."

"What am I going to do with you?" He says fondly, pulling her closer as their legs dangle over the side of the bed.

She shrugs, an affectionate smile on her face as she pushes dark curls from his flushed face. "That was quite the story."

He says nothing for a minute, and she's content to observe the way his long lashes flicker against his freckled cheeks, before he speaks again. "I used to play Dungeons and Dragons."

"What?" El pauses, a surprised laugh bumbling out of her.

"I told you I was a geek," he glares at her quickly, with no real heat behind it. "I was the Dungeon Master; I wrote the campaigns."

"What the actual hell?" She smiles in awe. "I used to play too."

"What?" Mike's head actually reels back. "With who?"

"Sara. Dad had an old set of D&D, said he used to play with a friend. So my sister and I tried it out, struggled at first—"

"Yeah, it was pretty complicated but once you got the hang of it, it was truly awesome."

"Right? Anyway, we played until I was in… like, fourth grade? Maybe fifth, I don't know. Then all girls were interested in ponies and Bratz, so I kind of lost interest after a while. Then I met Max in middle school, and I completely forgot about D&D. I was a Mage."

"I was a Paladin." Mike shared softly, smiling at her.

It was these kind of discoveries that he loved to uncover from her. It was said that you never stop learning new things about your partner, and while their relationship was still new, it always blew his mind whenever she sprung something like this on him.

"Maybe I should write a campaign for you," he mused pensively, half of his face smashed against the mattress. "Play for old time's sake and all that."

"You still have your DM book?" She asked with a grin, still fingering his messy hair.

"I don't actually know…" he couldn't remember if it was stashed away somewhere in his closet, or if he left it behind in his parents' house, or if he'd simply thrown it away. "I'll have to ask Nance. Oh! Once, when I was little and the boys would come over to play, she dressed up as an Elf."

"Nancy?" El asked incredulous, trying to picture Mike's sister in a costume. She'd only seen photos of her in Mike's phone, so it was a bit difficult to imagine the older woman as an elf. From what he'd said, Nancy Wheeler was serious and hard-working, which only pushed the anxiety bar higher, once again. "She sounds better and better every time you mention her."

"Yeah, she used to be fun like that." Mike twists his mouth for a second, his eyes glazing over with an unsettling expression that she can only describe as nostalgia before it's gone. "Well," he sits up, curls bouncing around his face like a crown. "She will be less fun if we take any longer. C'mon."

She lets him help her up, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her jacket again, pulling it over her shoulders and reaching for her bag. "Hey," she pauses, eying the bed. "How are we taking all of this?" She gestures to the folded blankets and pillows.

"Don't worry about it," he shakes his head, grabbing the large purple blanket and bunching it into a fluffy roll. "This is the only one that really matters. I'll text Lucas so he can come and get these later."

"You know he's not your personal assistant, right? And that Max is even more demanding as a girlfriend than I am." She snickers as he leads her out of the room.

"So he says. I prefer the term second-in-command." He throws over his shoulder with a smirk. "And he's too hyper to actually be a personal assistant. He can barely assist himself, lol."

"Did you just actually say _'lol'_ , like, in an actual verbal sentence?" El gasped with incredulity, laughter threatening to escape in any moment. "Oh, there's no doubt you're _still_ a geek."

"I'll leave you," he untangles their hands, hitting her with the rolled-up blanket. "Right here, in this house. I'll do it."

Her eyes are still crinkled though, her mouth open in loud laughter as she leans against the wall. "Oh, man, I love you."

"I don't. I take that back. I despise you now."

"Omg," she uses the acronym to tease him. "Shut up, Mister Paladin." El shakes her head, letting her laughter fade as she takes his hand to pull him back to the door. "Let's get out of here."

.

.

.

"—wasn't answering any of my texts, so I don't know." Mike tells her as he unlocks the door, pushing it open and letting her in first, her bag hanging from his shoulder.

Her eyes instantly jump to every available furniture and shape she can make out in the dark, unconsciously keeping her feet planted close to the entrance in the midst of the unknown territory.

"She's here, though." Mike frowns, his hand going behind her head, where a rack is nailed to the wall, his fingers touching the fabric of Nancy's coat.

"Maybe she went to bed early?" El offers in a hushed voice, clutching the blanket tighter against herself.

Whatever he was about to say gets lost in the startled yelp she makes when something collides with her legs, tickly fur brushing against her skin as _it_ barks.

"Oh." Mike breathes, freezing for a second as Papa jumps around El's feet.

"When the hell did you get a dog?!" She exclaims in exasperation, trying to kick the puppy away as he continues to circle her feet.

"Uhh…" out of all the times his brain and vocal cords could choose to disconnect from each other, they decided upon _right there._ He makes himself seem busy by crouching down and taking the puppy in his arms, efficiently releasing her from being chased by Papa.

It's also right there that his sister steps out of her room.

"Mike?" Nancy's voice carries through the dark, pausing for a second before the entire apartment explodes with light. The eldest Wheeler is standing in the hallway, a robe tied clumsily around her body as a hand rests against her chest and the other is pressed to the wall, next to the light switch.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mike settles for an answer, taking in the wary jump of her eyes. "I've been texting you all night."

She licks her lips slowly, crossing her arms across her chest, righting the front of her robe in the process. "Busy." Nancy clears her throat, motioning to the girl behind him. "Are you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yeah," he shifts Papa to hold him in one arm, extending the other around El's shoulders to pull her further into view. "Nance, being, like, _two am_ of the present day, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend."

"Hi," El breathes out nervously, trying not to waver under the woman's sharp gaze. She clutches the blanket even tighter, fisting her hands over the soft material. Even in a robe, bare-faced and with messy hair, Nancy Wheeler exuded confidence and intelligence, her presence an imposing persona in the body of a petit brunette. "I'm—"

"Nance?" A fourth voice interrupts, and an expression of panic flashes over Nancy's face before it's replaced by annoyance.

"I told you to stay in my room." She hisses over her shoulder, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Who else is in here?" Mike frowns affronted, tightening the hold on El's shoulders and pinning his eyes on his sister.

The door of Nancy's room opens wider behind her, and a handsome man walks out, wearing a blue worn-looking blanket with bear patterns around his shoulders. His hair is equally messy, standing up in the back from being pressed against the pillows for a while, and once he realizes he has an audience, he tightens the blanket around him further, trying to cover his red boxers and his bare torso.

"Who the hell is this?" Mike questions loudly, giving the other guy in the room a suspicious glare.

"Well, seems like tonight's the night for introductions." Nancy mutters under her breath with an eye roll. "Mike, this is—"

"Steve!" El says brightly, a smile blooming over her lips as recognition dawns on her.

"Well, well," Steve Harrington grins, looking way too smug for someone who's encased in a teddy bear blanket. "Who do we have here?"

"Yeah, who do we have here?" Mike interrupts, looking lost as he glances between his girlfriend and his sister.

"You two know each other?" Nancy questions, rising an inquiring eyebrow.

"Steve works with my Dad," El states, looking up at Mike, who's still frowning even as Papa licks his chin. "He's part of the government's administration department."

"Does old Hop know you're here?" Steve smirks at her, eying the possessive arm slung over her shoulders and the boy attached to it.

"No…and you don't know that either." She threatens slowly with a glare.

"Don't worry," Steve winks, trying to suppress a yawn as Mike continues to blink perplexed. "I know what to do. Where are you supposed to be at, though?"

"Sleeping," Nancy interferes, tired and unused to being left out of a conversation. "As should you. As we _all_ should."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Mike asks obnoxiously, leaving Papa on the floor again. "The one you said you hadn't brought over yet?"

"I didn't know you'd be here," Nancy huffs, pouting a little. "But yes. Mike, this is Steve Harrington. Steve, this is Mike."

"Pleasure to meet you. I can finally put a face to the little shit Nancy's always whining about." Steve steps up, gripping Mike's hand and shaking it up and down as El snickers behind her palm.

"Hey!" Both Wheelers exclaim in unison, making El's laughter increase in volume.

"Whatever," Mike rolls his eyes, stepping back to throw his keys in the bowl by the door. "Nancy, this is El Hopper."

"Well, I didn't plan on us meeting like this, but I'm glad we do." Nancy smiles gently, waving her fingertips at El, who smiles back sheepishly while Mike comes back to stand behind her. "I've met your Dad."

"Yeah, Mike kind of mentioned it." El grimaces, her smile wavering as she remembers the conversation they had a few weeks ago, knowing her father had put Mike in a bit of trouble with his sister. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," the older brunette shrugs, sending a look in her little brother's way. "If it hadn't been for him I would've found out by the Court notification."

The room is silent for a few seconds, Papa's loud panting and a rustling of clothes the only sound in the tense air before Mike breaks it with an awkward cough.

"Anyway," he places a hand on her lower back. "El's staying over in my room. Just letting you know."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do." Steve points a finger in their direction, making El cringe and Mike roll his eyes.

"Shut up." Nancy shoves him. "Okay. Just… keep it quiet in there."

"Ugh, same for you." Mike grimaces, pushing El to walk in front of him, guiding her into the hallway and going for his door. "Will you be here for breakfast?"

"Yeah, I think so." Nancy throws over her shoulder, pushing Steve inside her room. "Waffles?"

"It's a date!" Mike smiles, sending El into his room with Papa close on her heels.

"It's a _double_ date!" Steve shouts from his sister's bedroom.

"Oh, _Jesus,_ get into bed already!" Nancy says in fond exasperation. "Night!"

"Night." Mike mutters as he watches her door get shut. What a weird feeling, seeing your supposedly single sister with your unknown brother-in-law, in your home. It was… weird. Just weird.

"Mike!"

Walking fully inside his bedroom, he can't help but laugh at the sight of El standing up on his bed as Papa barks without ceasing, jumping up and down to try and climb on the mattress too. "Get her, little guy!"

"It's not funny!" El huffs, pressing her back against the wall while Papa continues to round the edge of the bed. "Michael! Stop laughing and make him stop!"

"What's up, doll-face? Scared of a little puppy?" He smirks, walking to stand by the foot of the bed with his arms crossed.

"I'm not scared," she rolls her eyes, jutting her jaw out in defiance. "He's just annoying. And I'm tired. I want to sleep."

His gaze softens, posture dropping in understanding. She's got a point. Not even an hour ago they were riding his bike through town until they got here. She needs to rest, and so does he.

"You're right. Sorry." He apologizes, sending her a kiss as he takes Papa from the floor and places him in the little bed in the corner of the room. He clicks his tongue as the puppy tries to escape, sloshing some water out of his bowl, but just like he'd discovered the day he arrived, Papa listens obediently and stays put.

There was no doubt that Brenner had trained the Corgi into full obedience; if he tried to with his students, it wasn't at all surprising that he did it to his dog too.

"Thank you." El sighs as she slides down the wall, folding her legs underneath herself with a light grimace.

"Did you pack anything to sleep in? Should I give you a shirt or something?" Mike questions, walking to rest his palms on his mattress as El slumps against his pillows.

"I brought some shorts and a shirt. I could really use a shower though."

"You sure?" He snorts softly, watching her eyes flutter tiredly.

"I'm sure," she says through a yawn. "I'm all sticky and gross." She maneuvers herself through his bed, walking on her knees until her hand reaches out to hold his shoulder for support. "You need a shower too, by the way."

"You're right," he nods with a pensive expression, mischief bleeding through his eyes as he helps her get down from the bed. "I might have to join you. Make sure you don't fall in the bathroom or something."

"And they say chivalry is dead," El rolls her eyes with a smile, taking her clean clothes out of her bag. "What a gentleman my boyfriend is."

"They don't call me Mike the Musketeer for nothing." He dimples.

"Nobody calls you that to your face." She snorts, shaking her head as she gathers her things against her chest. "I'm going to need a towel."

"Hey, wait, wait," Mike grips her arms. "Where are you going all dressed up? Any stripping on your part has to take place right here, in this room."

"Yeah, and take the risk of your sister catching me naked in the hallway? No, thanks." She scoffs amusedly.

"At least the dress?" Mike smirks teasingly, gripping her upper arms and swaying her slightly. "A little peep show? Ta-ra-ra ra-ra…"

"Michael!" She laughs, letting him sway her into a rhythm as he starts to hum what could be called a typical burlesque song. "Stop! I'm not giving you a strip dance. I need to shower."

He laughs with her, sliding his palms until they're resting against her shoulder blades, hugging her to himself. "I know. I'm just messing with you."

She sighs softly on his neck, feeling the flutter of his long curls as she sneaks an arm around his middle, holding her clothes with the other. The room is silent once again, only the sound of their gentle breathing heard in the still night, and as her heart pounds along his, she feels eternal.

"I love this, and I love you," she murmurs softly, closing her eyes as his hand rubs her back. "But I really need to shower."

"Okay," he replies, just as quietly as her, nose inhaling the slightly salty scent of her hair. "The bathroom is the last door in the hallway. The towels are on the shelves above the toilet. You can use Nancy's shampoo."

She hums in understanding, feeling the blackness behind her eyelids get darker the longer they stand there. Although she was the one who requested him to let go, she still lingers a good five minutes more in his arms, basking in the feel of him and his warmth.

"El."

"I know," she pulls back slowly, blinking back into awareness as she shakes her hair away from her face. "I'll be back."

She deposits a kiss to his lips before walking away, sending a threatening glare in Papa's direction when the Corgi rises from his spot the minute he sees her walking on her own.

"Down, boy." Mike whispers as he watches her slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

.

.

.

El contemplates life as she gets under the shower.

Adjusting the temperature of the water until it's warm enough to not peel her skin off, she starts to rewind every moment since all of this began.

Nearly six months ago, she had met one of the most infuriating human beings. He'd gotten under her skin, peeling layers of false security like an onion until he got to the very center. She nearly snorts Nancy's coconut shampoo as she realizes the innuendo.

Her brain goes straight to her family, and how difficult things seem to be getting. Her mother is pissed at her, and, undoubtedly, will be even more when El returns home. Her father tried to play mediator, but Terry is a hot-headed woman whose stubbornness can get downright murder-inducing, and Jim Hopper was not known for being patient, and although she is sure he loves her mother, the strain on their marriage was not lost in her eyes. Sara was the only one who seemed to be doing fine, but that was also due to El not being constantly on watch for her.

The fact that her relationship—the one that made her feel loved and secure, and all above _happy_ \- was such a thorn in Terry's side is upsetting. Wasn't your first love supposed to be celebrated? Wasn't your mother the one you should gush with about the boy you liked and the one who would tend to your wounds when you got hurt? All her mother did was bitch about Mike and what a bad influence he was on her.

The thing is, El thinks as she runs the bar soap down her legs, Mike hasn't been bad with her.

They met under some shifty circumstances that later blossomed into teasing and shameless flirting, with some side help from Max and Lucas. He was the stereotypical bad boy, who, _yes,_ had a somewhat dark background, but it was all a façade. He is kind and caring, and although there _is_ some reckless edge of danger he gravitates towards, he's still the boy whose mother turned her back on, which led him to want the lifestyle she met him in.

But he's sweet, and even though she had been nervous about dating him, she would never forget the vulnerable look in his eyes when he asked her to be his girlfriend, because she was sure her eyes had been the same.

 _She was laughing, the sun—the_ _ **fucking**_ _sun, it seemed to be attached to her—glowing behind her shoulders, highlighting the paler tones of her hair while she threw her head back._

 _It was rushed, the kind of clench around your stomach that seemed to scream_ _ **go go go!**_ _But he had been wanting to do this for some weeks now, and she was there, laughing, and the sun was shining behind her like a freaking Impressionism painting and there was ice cream smudging the tip of her nose._

" _Hey." He'd said suddenly, pulling on her hand to make her stop walking._

" _What?" El asked with a giggle, wiping her nose with her thumb and promptly licking the digit into her mouth._

 _He hesitated._

 _He didn't know why, but he did, and she noticed._

 _The corner of her eyes smoothed into seriousness, laughter drifting away as she took him in, and she slowly removed the finger inside her mouth to speak._

" _Is something wrong?"_

" _No," he shook his head quickly, squeezing her hand for reassurance. "No, nothing's wrong. I just have something to ask you."_

" _Oh." She said simply, but the swallow she made was too loud, her throat suddenly dry, and her ice cream began to melt over her fingers. "Okay. Shoot."_

" _So… you know the races?"_

 _That got him an eye-roll. "The ones I almost got arrested at? Yes, I know the races."_

" _My friends and I are hanging out there on Sunday. I'm pretty sure Max will be there too."_

" _Are you asking me to go with you?" She flicked her pinky finger over the back of his hand._

" _Yes. "_

" _Okay. Sure." She shrugged, lifting the dripping cone to her lips as she continued to observe him._

 _ **Spit it out, you coward**_ _._

" _You don't have to dress like all the other girls." Was what left his lips. He mentally cringed, wondering why on earth would he chose her outfit as a topic. "I mean, I know you're not really into dark clothes-although you'd look good in them. Not that you don't look good in anything else! You—"_

" _Is that all?" El blurted out, biting her lower lip while shifting on her feet. "What you were going to ask, I mean. Is that all?"_

" _I… yeah. I wanted to know if you'd come with me."_

 _Jesus, here we go…_

" _Oh…" she nodded, looking down at their hands before licking her ice cream again._

" _But," he stepped closer, making her look up in surprise as he slowly took her cheek in his other hand. "Not as friends."_

" _Oh…"_

" _I… wanted to say…" he struggled, gulping and closing his eyes briefly as his heartbeat increased. He mentally kicked himself._ _ **Get a grip, you jerk!**_ _His mind screamed. He sighed, trying to keep all the unwanted thoughts of her not liking him back out of his head. Because she was waiting, with her eyes wide and mouth open (like a little fish), and she was here, out for ice cream with him, willingly._

" _El," Mike finally exhaled, dark eyes shining with daylight, nerves and bare insecurity that filled her heart with softness. "Will… will you be my girlfriend? Like, officially. Like, exclusive and serious and all that? Please?"_

 _She gaped at him for what felt like an eternity before her face broke out in a gentle chuckle. "Are you serious?"_

" _Yeah," he nodded quickly, smiling in relief when she pulled him closer. "As a heart attack."_

" _Yes," she answered against his mouth, grinning happily as her ice cream melted all over their shoes. "Yes."_

In moments like that night though, he was bare to her. His _soul_ is always bare to her, because he loves her and he's not afraid to show it.

Which is why she feels like crying each time her mom comes to mind. Why couldn't she see past the leather jacket? If only Terry could see what El sees when they're alone…

At the first tingle on her shoulder blade, she swallows, continuing to rub the creamy suds on her hair as her fingers massage her scalp. This shower was supposed to get her clean and ready for bed, and she wouldn't manage that with her body growing hard with tension. She needs to stop worrying about her future and what her mother will say (or not) to her… _ease up,_ Mike had told her.

So, with the soapy bubbles running down her back, eyes closed in relaxation and palms braced on the tiled wall as the water rinses her skin, El chooses to free herself from anxiety, at least for the night.

.

.

.

"You're warm." Mike mumbles against her neck once he's back.

"You're cool." She sighs against his wet hair, his bare skin still moist from the shower, as she runs a hand down his back.

"I already knew that."

Him being bare makes the skin-on-skin impact louder in the nearly silent room.

"It's too late for sass." El grins with her eyes closed as he whines from her hit, leaning further back into his pillows.

He stays silent after that, sighing quietly against her. His body might be cool, but his breath is warm as it melts into her hair, resounding in her ears and dying into the pillows underneath her head.

She wants to keep talking; to keep the conversation going until it's time to leave the bed, because she loves his voice, loves his banter and loves the way he speaks to her; but he is tired, and so is she (or at least, she thought she was, until her shower), so she only continues to run her hand up and down his back as his breathing turns deeper, his head falling heavier on her shoulder and his arm going limp around her waist.

Although the dark reigns in the room, the little moonlight coming through the thick curtains helps her sight get sharper. As her own body starts falling into familiar drowsiness, she observes him. His curls are still wet, some droplets of water hitting her chest and absorbed by the fabric of her tank top. El had teased him about his hair routine when he'd come back from the shower. The way he had rubbed the towel all over his head, resulting in a messy crown of hair, had made her laugh. He doesn't seem like the type to spend hours in front of the mirror, given the perpetual bedhead he's always sporting, so the mop-and-go method had to be the reason behind it. The light is too pale for her eyes to trace the freckles on his face, but it still highlights the smoothness of his back. She runs her thumb on the crease of his shoulder blade, feeling the hard edge of bone and muscle, and trails her fingertips up his neck.

"I love you." El whispers against his forehead, feeling the light flutter of his eyelashes as he continues to sleep peacefully. Their legs are intertwined, the little hairs on his calves pressed against the smoothness of her own, and the warmth of the duvet helps her combat the slight chill from his wetness.

A pair of yellowish eyes stare at her from a few feet away, and she frowns slightly as she remembers there's a dog in Mike's room.

She makes a mental note to ask him about Papa again before sleep finally claims her, closing off her mind and easing her body up.

.

.

.

"Morning, sunshine!" Steve grins brightly as soon as he spots her, rubbing his hand all over the top of her head.

"Ugh, get off!" She grouches, slapping his hand away and resuming her braiding, giving Mike a glare when he chuckles amusedly besides her.

"Someone hasn't had her coffee cup yet." Steve says as he swaggers towards Nancy, who's standing in front of the counter, answering e-mails on her iPad while the waffle maker is on and the coffee is brewing. "Morning, sunshine." He says to her as he presses a kiss on the back of her head, wrapping his arms around her petite form.

"I didn't know you were such a grump in the morning." Mike teases as he reaches out to tug on the ends of her braid.

"That's because we had never woken up together." El replies, slapping his fingers away as the coffee machine beeps.

"Which brings me to the next set of questions," Nancy says as she takes some mugs out of a cupboard while Steve takes a waffle out and pours some more mix into the circular machine. "One: how do you take your coffee?"

"Uhm, black with a dash of cream and one spoonful of sugar, but I can totally do it myself—"

"No, no," Nancy tuts, pouring El's coffee into a purple mug with _'Yay! You made it out of bed!'_ in silver sparkly letters printed on the front. "It's fine. My mother always said it was important to tend to guests. Or some classist shit like that. It's okay," she grins over her shoulder at the younger brunette. "I don't mind."

"Thank you, Nancy." El smiles kindly, the first gleam of happy of the day, and it's so beautiful—she's still blinking sleepily, trying to bury yawns into the palm of her hand as her curly hair is tied into a messy braid that rests on the curve of her right shoulder—that Mike nearly misses the fact that he doesn't have a beverage.

"Hey, where's mine?" He frowns at his sister, pouting a little for good measure, because he knows what's coming.

"You're not a guest, you live here. And you don't drink coffee." Nancy says flatly, giving him an unimpressed look as she carries El's mug to the table with her own ' _You can't fight crime if you ain't cute'_ cup in her other hand. "Second question: where were you two last night?"

El makes herself busy by taking the mug out of Nancy's outstretched hand, while Mike hums quietly to himself, looking over to where Steve is placing waffles on china plates.

"And third: who knows you're here? And by that, I mean: where do your parents think you spent the night?" Nancy questions as she takes a seat in front of them, eying the couple while she grabs a neon-pink post-it from the little desk-organizer that sits in the middle of the table, quickly scribbling down an e-mail address in neat loopy cursive letters that instantly amaze El.

Mike adverts his eyes, resting them on the tiny chip at the edge of the table, scratching at it with his thumb nail while El sips from her coffee cup, giving him a side look over the rim of the mug.

"You know, ignoring my question won't make me go away." Nancy tells them flippantly, capping the pen and placing it back in its place, giving them a knowing look with a raised eyebrow to match.

"Uhhh," El stalls, sharing a mildly panicked look with Mike, daintily putting down her coffee. "We… went out yesterday. It got late. And we had to leave… our hang out place."

" _Hang out place?_ " Nancy repeats, unfilled eyebrow still high on her forehead as a smirk starts twisting one of the corners of her mouth. In the crisp morning light, El can see that under her usual makeup, Nancy shares the freckles Mike has on his nose and cheeks, but a bit less intense. Steve snorts loudly in the background while Mike shuts his eyes briefly, exhaling shortly through his nose as his eyelids move with the effort of his closed eye-roll. "Okay, and where's that exactly?"

"No offense, sis, but it's none of your business." Mike states, giving her a flat look while he still fiddles with the table. "We got here because the place was closing down for the night. El had a bag ready because she was staying with a friend. _No_ , she _isn't_ supposed to be here right now."

Nancy's incredible cheekbones become more pronounced as she sucks her inner cheeks in annoyance, matching Mike's gaze and trapping El in the middle of their stare-off.

"El?" Steve calls over his shoulder, extending her an olive-branch. "Will you help me with the plates?"

"Sure," she nearly jumps from her seat in relief, taking her coffee cup with her as she sends both siblings an uncomfortable grimace that was supposed to be a smile. "Excuse me."

She hears Nancy start mumbling under her breath as Mike sighs and the chair creaks under his weight, and she imagines him pursing his lips as he leans back, arms crossed over his chest and eyes cast to somewhere else that isn't his sister.

"Leave those two to it." Steve mutters as he opens the lid of the waffle maker, taking the fluffy circle out with a pair of tongs and stacking it on the last plate. "So, the old man doesn't know you're here. What's your alibi? Wait," he interrupts himself, snapping his fingers in amused realization. "I know _who_ it is. Red hair, blue eyed, little bit of a bitch. What's her name?"

"Max," El nods as she takes two bottles of honey and syrup, along with some butter. "She and Sara know I'm here."

Steve hums in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything more, busying himself with turning the waffle maker off and wiping the counter with a damp hand-towel. She takes a sip of her coffee, feeling the beverage start waking her senses more and more with each sip, and turns her head to catch Mike staring at her.

" _Drink?"_ She mouths, motioning to her mug.

He jerks his chin to the fridge, making a rectangle shape with his hands as Nancy chastises him for not paying attention to her. El places her coffee back on the counter, opens the fridge and looks for… whatever it was that Mike drinks. She spots the chocolate milk carton on one of the door shelves, and after holding it out for him to see and receiving an affirmative nod as he whispers back to his sister, El pours him a glass.

"Take some fruit out," Steve points to the fridge with a knife. "Nancy likes berries with her waffles." He goes back to cutting a banana in small slices, arranging them in a smaller plate to fit more fruit into it while the towel is slung over his shoulder.

After a few minutes of them chatting while blatantly ignoring the small argument going on in the background, they have clean strawberries in a bowl, blueberries and some butter on the plate where Steve had put the banana.

"Okay, fellas," he claps abruptly, taking two plates and balancing the fruit and strawberry bowl on top of those. "Breakfast is ready. We'll leave the time-outs for after."

El stifles a giggle, carrying the other two plates and her coffee with the syrup bottles under her arm to the table, where Nancy sighs in resignation and accepts her plate from Steve, giving him a sweet smile.

Mike walks past her, touching her cheek briefly with a reassuring wiggle of his eyebrows, and takes the silverware and his milk cup.

"Well," Nancy takes a breath, sending her a smile. "Let's dig in."

El waits until Mike is back to start eating, patiently waiting for him to grab his own food as Nancy and Steve chat idly while biting into the blueberries.

"Don't be shy," Mike smirks at her as he reaches for the honey bottle. "Take whatever you want."

"What do you top your waffles with, El?" Nancy inquires politely, picking some banana slices with her fork and placing them on her single waffle as Steve spreads some butter on his own.

"Strawberries, usually. And honey. I like them a little bit soggy. But my dad makes us drink black coffee to balance it out. This is like a cheat meal." She laughs softly, gesturing to her creamed coffee and thanking Mike as he passes her the strawberry bowl.

"That's a good thing," Nancy nods as she cuts her waffle into tiny pieces before drizzling the squares with simple corn syrup. "I try to have a healthy breakfast whenever I can, if I have the time for it."

"When do you even have time?" Mike mumbles under his breath as Steve pats Nancy's shoulder while saying how he's always telling her to take a break.

The older woman grabs her coffee, taking a sip, before she frowns at her little brother.

"Mike."

"What?" The boy frowns back, frowning again when he finds El's eyes on him too.

"That's too much honey!" Both girls say at the same time, giving each other matching chuckles afterwards.

"No, it isn't." Mike frowns defensively, looking at Steve for support, who only shrugs and continues to chew his breakfast. There's a little bit of blueberry juice sliding down his bottom lip, but because he didn't stick up for him, he isn't going to tell him.

"Mike, seriously," Nancy kicks him underneath the table, the point of her fluffy slipper digging into his shin. "That's way too much sugar. And you're drinking chocolate milk."

"What? Is your new client a nutritionist or something?" He bickers back while delivering a kick to her own leg.

"Ow! What are you? Two?"

"You started it!"

"Definitely two." Nancy nods to El and Steve in a conspirational way, making them both chuckle in amusement. "Anyway, _no_. But that's way too much sugar you're consuming. And like El said, you're not even balancing it out with something else."

"Oh, don't worry," Mike says as he takes a large bite of his waffle, honey dripping from the fork and back onto his plate like a thick raindrop. "I'll have some coke on the way to El's to help with the sugar-high."

That one makes Steve laugh, who reaches out to fist-bump him as Nancy rolls her eyes and El gives her boyfriend a look. "You don't even do coke."

"Of course he doesn't do coke. He's lying. His dumbass would probably OD on the first try." Nancy shakes her head, taking a bite of her waffle.

"Hey, you don't know that! Maybe I get totally high on the weekends and you can't even tell."

She narrows her eyes. "Do you?"

Mike chews slowly, honey gathering like a gleaming transparent bead on the corner of his mouth. "Well… no, BUT, I _could_ , if I wanted to—"

"Shut up and eat your breakfast, cokehead." El laughs fondly, taking his chin in her hand and wiping away the dollop of honey with her finger.

And that makes Nancy laugh.

The sound is gentle and throaty, and her petite shoulders shake as she plops another bit of waffle into her mouth. Making sure there are no syrup remains on her otherwise clean hands, she shakes her long hair out of her bun, the cascade of chocolate curls—like her little brother's too—falling gracefully and a little messy around her upper back.

"I like her, Mike." She smiles approvingly, giving El an indulging smile as the younger girl licks her finger.

"Yeah, me too." Mike grins, taking her hand and pressing a quick but soft kiss to the back of it.

"Same. We should totally keep her around." Steve nods mockingly at her, and after she childishly sticks her tongue out at him, he grins in amusement.

Their breakfast carries on like that; teasing and fun. Mike and Steve bond over sexual innuendos while the girls groan, and Steve and El laugh whenever a new argument starts between the Wheeler siblings.

It's light and amusing, and everything she needed to start her day well before facing whatever was waiting for her at home.

All with Mike by her side.


	14. A little chat

"You should invite him over sometime." It's the first thing her father says as she opens the fridge door.

Her eyes go wide and her hand freezes on the way to the water jug. The coffee brewer is on, and the whirl of the machine keeps the minutes it takes her brain to respond filled with sound.

"Who, Mike?" She tries for subtle interest, feeling the dampness of the crystal jug in her palm as she takes it out.

" _Who, Mike?"_ Hopper mocks, lounging against the counter as he waits for the coffee."Yes, Mike, the guy you spent the night with and who you haven't formally introduced to us as your boyfriend."

She kind of chokes with her own saliva, and she keeps her eyes firmly on the counter as she closes the fridge door with her foot and goes to the cupboard to find a cup. "I… didn't- we didn't—"

"Did he stay over at Max's? Gossiped with you two? Painted your toenails?" At her silence, Hopper continues. "No, he did not. And you didn't either."

"Dad—"

"I'm not dumb, kid. I know what you're up to." Her father turns his back on her, reaching for the sugar bowl and a spoon as the coffee maker beeps.

If the earth could be split by a person's will alone, she would be long gone into the depths of it. It's not like she didn't think this would happen. After all, her mother has been very obvious in her dislike over her relationship, and even though he hadn't voiced it yet, she knew her father was aware of everything that had been happening because of Terry. There was also the fact that he'd met with Mike by himself, something they hadn't really talked about either.

"I'm not mad or upset, El," he offers after a few minutes of dead silence on her part. "It's something I've come to terms with ever since you were born. I knew I had to prepare myself for the boyfriends and tantrums the minute the doctor didn't find a penis on the ultrasound."

"Ugh, Dad!" El smiles at his deep chuckle. "Now it's not the time to whine about the lack of boys in this family."

"Which is why, if there is a boy involved in this family, I want to… you know, mingle."

" _You know, mingle."_ She mocks in revenge, snorting into her water cup when he pokes her side with a large finger.

"I mean that I want to be more involved in your life. I liked the kid. He seems… nice. A little too much hair for my liking, but—"

"Great thing it's not you who has to like his appearance." She interrupts with a grin, moving to stand beside him and bumping her hip against his.

He chuckles again, nodding as he pours coffee into a mug. "I don't want you to feel alone." He pauses, putting the pot back on the machine before turning his face towards hers. "I know your mother isn't easy to deal with, okay? She's very abrasive when things don't go according to her plans and I know she can be way too harsh on you and Sara when that happens. But you've also done things that deserved some kind of punishment. And yes, I'm talking about you skipping school." Hopper raises an eyebrow in pointedness as El lowers her head and fiddles with the handle of his mug. "I didn't say anything that day because I figured your mother had chewed your ass raw and it wouldn't be any good if I added more to that."

"You said skipping school happened sometimes." She dares to say, biting her lip when he moves to the cupboard.

"Yeah, I did say that." Jim rolls his eyes, shaking his head in a way that El can't figure out if it's amusement or exasperation. Either way, he comes back to her side with another mug and gives her shoulder a soft squeeze. "I made a lot of mistakes when I was young. And I'm sure this won't be the end of yours, but what I want you to know it's that it is okay to be wrong sometimes. You learn that actions have consequences. You build yourself up from them. And then you try to not fall into the same holes again."

She's quiet for another minutes; not the trapped kind, but contemplative. Her father had a lot of wisdom from past experiences, she knew that as much. And it was nice to hear it from him. That's why she feels so shitty for keeping him in the dark. There was once a time in which she shared everything with him, and it feels like a black hole is nestling in her stomach when she realizes that had stopped some years ago.

"I'm sorry," El mumbles as he pours coffee into the second mug. "For keeping things from you. I should have told you about Mike since the start."

"Not since the start," Hopper muses as he places the coffee pot back in its place. "I'm not asking you to give me all the details. _Yuck_." That earns him a shove. "But yes, it'd be nice if you gave me a bigger space in your day."

"I'll try to make room in my busy agenda." She smiles, taking the used spoon splattered with sugar grains from his hand.

"Oh, do you have a number so I can schedule a late meeting?"

"Not really. I guess you'll just have to show up in my room and see if I'm available."

"I can pull some strings," he fake-ponders, watching her stir some sugar in her coffee as he lounges against the counter. "Make sure there's a space for me."

"There's always going to be a space for you with me, Dad." She can't help but say that, as corny as it sounds. Because it's true. Because the look in his eyes and the softness in his smile are totally worth it.

"Even if there's another boy in your life?" He teases.

"Even if." She nods, turning to mirror his stance.

"Halfway happy." Hopper grins, his elbow brushing against hers as he puts his mug out. El returns the grin, clinking her own mug against his, and then they both sip from their coffees contentedly. It had been a while since she felt this close to her parents, even if it is only one of them. She had always been closer to her father anyway.

"Seriously, though. Invite him over for dinner." He insists, eying the counter for the box of powdered donuts he saw Sara hide.

"Are you trying to give Theresa a heart attack?"

"Well, if you're going to keep him around, shouldn't she start getting used to it?"

She watches as he pushes a cooking glove away from the corner, revealing a donut-printed lid. "I am keeping him around."

"Then invite him over," Hopper states, flipping the lid and wiggling his fingers above the sweet circles of dough as he tries to choose one. "Tell him I summon him."

"You sound like a demon."

"I am."

"So I'm your devil-spawn?"

"Yes. Would you care for a donut? They're straight from hell."

"Hell is where we will end up when Sara notices we found her donuts." El snickers as she takes another sip from her coffee.

"So?"

"Give me one."

.

.

.

It had been a couple of weeks since Brenner tried to get her in trouble, and even though the white haired man had not given any indication of lingering resentment, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He had been… neutral. Not even sparing her a second glance after he signed her homework or she delivered an assignment. It was weird. He was weird.

"You're being paranoid," Max kept telling her. "Relax! Maybe he finally got laid or something." They were having lunch on the outer tables of the cafeteria, the trees on the backyard providing some shade from the glaring sun.

"It's Brenner," El says after she swallows a mouthful of chicken and lettuce. "I don't think he's capable of intercourse. Besides, he isn't going to stop hating me just because something good happened to him. Actually, I expected him to turn the hate up because I wasn't expelled. That's why it's freaking me out that he's basically ignoring me. A side eye would put me at ease."

"Do you really want him to go back to his bullying?" Max questions with incredulity. "Seriously, El-Jane," the girl shakes her head, red locks flying around her shoulders as she collects their used napkins. "As the old saying goes: _Let go and let God_." Her best friend exclaims dramatically, throwing her arms in the air and angling her face towards the sky, instantly frowning as the glare of the sun hits her eyes.

"Wasn't Kim Kardashian who said that?" El chuckles, taking the last bite of her sandwich and adding the wrapper to Max's pile of trash.

"Hey, Kim K knows what she's talking about." The redhead snickers, stealing a sip from El's water bottle. "Anyway, enough about that old man. Have you told Mike about that dinner?"

"Not yet," El drawls, playing with one of her bracelets. "I haven't decided on what day and I haven't asked my dad about what he said to my mother."

"You're avoiding it on purpose." Max says as a matter-of-fact.

"What?"

"Telling Mike," she adds with a slightly narrowed look in her eyes. "You're… afraid?"

"Maybe," El nods after a couple of seconds, agreeing with her best friend. "I just don't want to put him in an uncomfortable situation. I already know how it's going to go."

"You should give him more credit than that." Max tells her as she watches the brunette rest her fingertips on her temple with a sigh.

"Max, it's like you forgot what my mom's like. I can't stand her lately, and I'm her _daughter_. She can be a real bitch when she wants to. And believe me, she _will_ want to be a bitch with Mike."

"Mike can be a bitch too," the redhead offers, a light smirk on her lips. "You know he'll fire back."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Mmmm, I guess I can see where you're coming from."

"Imagine your mother hating Lucas. How awkward and tense dinner would be?"

"My mother loves Lucas, though. Can't relate."

"My mother hates my boyfriend, Max. And I don't want to be in the middle of a war zone over mashed potatoes."

"But your dad will be there. And Sara. You won't be alone. Even better," she licks her lips, pointing the water bottle in her direction. " _They_ won't be alone."

"It troubles me." El groans suddenly, throwing her head back. "Maybe I'm overreacting. I don't know. I'm just dreading the whole thing."

Max's face softens, taking pity on her best friend. She reaches out and covers El's hand with hers. "Just… give it a go. You have your dad on your side. Don't put a barrier between Mike and your family because of your mom. Worst case scenario, they fight and your mother goes up to her room to fume in silence while the rest of you enjoy dessert. It's not like it'll end up in murder."

"Mine," El retorts sardonically. "Probably by my own hand too."

"Then it would be suicide. See? No murder." The redhead pats her hand, and El can't help but chuckle.

Maybe she was making a big deal out of it, but it wasn't a s _mall_ deal either.

"Why don't you tell Mike first?" Max suggest as the bell rings, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Hear what he has to say on the matter."

"Yeah, you're right," the brunette concedes with a thoughtful purse of her lips while they gather their stuff. "He gets to have an opinion on this."

.

.

.

" _Hey, dude."_

"… ' _hey, dude'_?" Mike repeats, gripping the phone tighter against his ear as he dumps more food on Papa's bowl. "What's wrong with you? You never greet me like this."

" _Uh… hey, man?"_

"Hey, _weirdo_. What's up?" He gives up with a snort, shaking his head.

" _Nothing. I'm just getting home from school. I'm in my room. I'm eating a banana."_

"Oh, cool. Is this the part where I ask you what you're wearing?" The fact that she's being kind of awkward and describing everything makes him raise an eyebrow.

" _No… unless you want to?"_

"Uh… what are you-"

" _So, I kind of have something to tell you?"_

"Okay, what did you do?" He sits up straighter in slight suspicion, his ears sharper as he detects the hesitation in her voice.

" _Nothing! I didn't do anything! It's an invitation, actually."_

"An invitation," he repeats, walking over to sit on his bed. "To do what? Where?"

" _Have dinner. At my place. With me… and my family."_

His eyebrows shoot up at that. "Dinner at yours? What prompted this?"

" _Uh, actually, if you can believe it, my Dad was the one who suggested this."_

"Your old man likes me." Mike grins, crossing his ankles and laying back against his pillows as he watches Papa gobble down his food. Little pup has a knack for literally biting more than he can chew, so he couldn't be alone while he ate, otherwise the risk of choking was strong.

" _Yeah, he does. I had a talk with him. He's… let's just say he can't be fooled and knows more than I would want."_

"What do you mean?"

" _I'm not telling you on the phone. I actually want to see your face for that."_ El giggles, all breathy and kind-of-choking—which, is exactly what Papa is about to do.

"Do you want me to come over now?" Mike questions, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear while holding the puppy back from the food bowl, giving him time to swallow.

" _Not right now. Just think about it and give me a date. I still have to let my Dad know and he has to pass the news down to my mother."_

"Oh, that's gonna go great." He states sarcastically. Terry Hopper was not his biggest fan. Not by a stretch. He sympathized and felt for poor old Jim Hopper.

" _That's what I'm kind of afraid of. I don't want her to make you feel bad, so if you don't want to—"_

"Wait a minute, I never said no." Mike frowns, plopping down on the floor with Papa on his lap. "And it's not like I can't hold my own with her."

" _Mike, that's exactly what I don't want! This isn't some battle field for you and her, this is dinner. You know, what civilized people do on a Thursday night."_

"So, Thursday night then?"

" _Mike—"_

"I'll behave if she does." He interrupts quietly, letting go of Papa. He watches the Corgi chew his food again while the silence lingers on the other side of the line. Because he knows that El knows her mother won't behave. And he won't let anyone spill their hate of him over wine and chicken, even if that person birthed his girlfriend.

Stil…

"Tell your father I'm free on Thursday." He sighs heavily, running a hand through his messy curls.

She wants this, he knows. El hasn't told him anything, but he can see the struggle in her when she has to keep him aside from her family. And it's not that great for him either. He likes her little sister, and her father, although intimidating, was a great drinking buddy (not that he drank more than Coke in front of him). It all came down to the matriarch of the Hopper family, and he was more than sure she wouldn't be easy to work with, but not impossible. _Right?_

" _Okay. You're free all the time, anyway. We haven't been dining together, with all the cold shoulderism between my mother and I, but we usually have dinner at six. Come over a little earlier though. So we have some time to warm you up, yeah?"_

"Warm me up? Jane Hopper, you little nymph, your parents will be down the stairs—"

" _UGH! I wasn't talking about that and you know it!"_

He can't help but laugh, hearty rumbles out of his chest as she continues whining over the phone. "Okay, fine, I'll be there by, like, four thirty. Is that alright?"

" _Yes. I'll talk to my Dad first, okay?"_

An unhuman cough startles him back into action. "Yeah, okay. Hey, babe? I have to go, Papa is about to die."

" _You still haven't told me how you two got that dog, by the way."_

"I literally can't talk right now," he says as he pats Papa's chest repeatedly while curling a finger through his little throat. Papa choking? Pfff, that is _so_ not an excuse to dodge her question. "I'll text you later."

" _Hey, wait, I got Chem homework. After you save Papa's life would you help me?"_

"Yes, text me the problems. I really got to go right now—"

" _Okay, okay, sorry. Love you lots."_

"Love you lots too. Bye." He's grateful she hangs up first because his fingers are covered in saliva and slimy bits of dog food are dangling by his fingertips.

Papa is still coughing a little bit, but his little bunny tail twitches side to side when he looks at Mike.

"What am I going to do with you, little one?" Mike exhales, closing his eyes and leaning back all the way until his back touches the floor and Papa is climbing on his chest.

* * *

 **A/N: this was kind of a fill-the-gap chapter, but I wanted to post _something._ I have another chapter already written, but it's the post-next chapter, if that makes sense? Anyway, next chapter will be dinner at El's, which I still have to write, but I already know how it's going to go. If any of you are still reading this please leave a comment because I know I took a long ass break but I updated my other story and I got like four reviews :(**

 **I don't want to sound like a brat after I left without any notice, but the lack of feedback is really discouraging for us writers, especially after we come back from a break. Please leave a comment! *thousand crying emojis* Love you all!**


	15. The disaster dinner

**A/N: Jesus, did I take long to post this. I want to apologize for the SUPER delay on this, but I swear I had no inspiration to write. I forced myself to sit down and do something with this story and came up with nothing. Yesterday I told myself: girl, you're writing tomorrow. I was off school today, so I knew I was going to have time, and then BOOM! WE GOT A TRAILER! Holy fuck did my inspiration return by seeing my babies holding hands! It was like the universe was sending me a sign!**

 **So, without further delay, here's chapter 15.**

* * *

After a weird period of time in which he had been forced to stay still while his curls got processed, he was rewarded with a nap in El's warm bed and a lullaby from the same girl.

Surrounded by covers and coconut-scented pillowcases, Mike tried not to smile when he felt his face being tickled with little kisses.

"Hey, get up," El was saying, running her fingers through his recently straightened hair. "You've been asleep for half an hour now." She leans down to press another kiss to his cheek, and that's when he decides to open an eye.

It took a few minutes for his brain to wake up. In the meanwhile, he took notice of the new sweater she was wearing and the dark curl of her eyelashes. "I missed the show." He says groggily, closing his eyes again when she scratches his scalp lightly.

"Show's downstairs." El mutters, not taking the bait of his joke. At her words, he peers up at her with both eyes, taking in her slight frown. "My mom just got here."

He bites down on the sudden need to scream and instead shifts around until he's sitting. "It's time to face the music, I guess."

"Mike." El sighs, nerves breaking through the surface of her face before she masks them. She stares at him, trying to mold her feelings into words as he waits for her. "Just… I know she's difficult but please don't let her get to you." Her eyes soften, fingertips tracing the creases on his cheeks left by the pillows, and his heart does that little sigh-thing when she takes his hand. "I love you. No matter what."

"No matter what." He agrees, tugging her closer to kiss her.

It's when he is sitting down next to her, feet shifting restlessly under the cover of the dining table, that he has to keep himself from bolting out the door. Theresa Hopper kept herself busy during the brief minutes they waited to sit down. She ordered Sara and El around, making them set the table and help her carry the dishes out of the kitchen while Jim made small talk with him. But she had no other thing to occupy herself with while they were all siting down.

It's one of the most awkward and tense dinners he's ever been in- and he has been dining by himself with his father. He would know about awkward dinners. Everyone eats and chews while ignoring the giant elephant in the room. El and Sara keep throwing each other looks, not knowing what to do, while Hopper just cuts his steak in neat slices, looking for precision, buying time.

When Terry clears her throat for the fourth time in three minutes, Jim decides to speak up.

"So," he says loudly, startling everyone. "Uh, Mike. How are your parents?"

El visibly winces, biting her lips silently as he kind of chokes.

It's a topic he would love nothing more than to ignore, but he knows Jim doesn't know about his family situation, and is just trying to make conversation, so he swallows, trying to loosen up the knot in his throat before speaking.

"They're fine, sir." Mike nods, a tight smile on his lips. "Thank you for asking."

"And your sister?" Hopper continues, finally putting a bite in his mouth.

"Fine, as well." He relaxes, seeing the outro from the previous topic. "Really busy."

"She's always busy." El adds, sharing a supporting smile with him.

"Yeah. Nancy's really good at what she does so… I guess it's only natural she has a bunch of work."

Hopper nods, his mouth full, and then all eyes fly to Terry as she speaks.

"What does she do?"

It takes him a moment to realize she's talking to him. "She's a lawyer. Works for Bauman and Associates." El is frozen again, staring down at her plate with such an intensity he's surprised her food is not on fire.

"Bauman? Murray Bauman? That guy was such a fraud. Don't know how he got so big." Terry shakes her head with a patronizing little laugh that instantly gets on his nerves.

"You knew the guy?" Hopper questions. His eyebrows are drawn into a frown, a slight warning in the look he throws his wife.

"Went to high school with him," Terry confirms. "He was always such a little weirdo. His friends too. Hopefully your sister knows who she's working for." She throws at Mike.

"I assure you she does." His toes are curling inside his shoes, and he has to force himself to relax his back when his muscles actually start to ache.

 _No matter what._

And apparently, it's time for the hunt, because Terry just carries on.

"What are your plans for college, Michael?"

Even Sara winces, and he knows he has to approach this topic carefully, or else this could go downhill real quick.

"I, uh… still don't know, ma'am. My father used to say I had a knack for business, like him, but—"

"But you _are_ going to college, right?"

"He's still looking for options, mom." El chimes in, looking weary. "He still has to finish high school first." Hopper throws her a look for that, which makes him think this is a subject they've spoken about before.

"Where do you go to school?" By the tone she takes, he feels like she already knows the answer. Still, it's kind of hard to actually tell her.

"I'm not… currently in school." Mike says carefully, trying to accurately choose his words. "I had some issues and I chose to take a temporary break. But—"

"You're not studying?" Terry purses her mouth. She eyes his entire body, her nose turning up with every trace of her brown gaze, and Mike curses the moment he let El do his hair. If there was a moment in which he needed to be in his absolute best element, it was this, and he isn't necessarily exuding confidence. "You certainly look like a drop-out."

"Mom." El says, fingers tight around her fork as she stares at her mother.

"What? I mean, can you blame me?" She crosses eyes with Hopper, as if looking for backup. "So, I guess this means you're obviously not looking for colleges yet."

"I—"

"Do you ever plan on going back to school? Or is illegal racing your career choice?"

" _Mom."_

"No, illegal racing is not my career choice, Theresa, thank you letting me clarify. " _I see myself surrounded by millions and fucking your daughter every night, how does that sound?_ It's what he wants to say, but of course he won't say that. He tries to go to his happy place, one that looks suspiciously like El's bed, and tries, _really tries_ , to answer respectfully. "And I do plan on finishing school. I've actually been taking some online courses and my sister is helping me to—"

"So, a GED is your option, I take it."

"Yes." He answers shortly.

"And in the meantime, you're not working either?"

"No, I'm not."

 _No matter what._

"Fantastic." Terry says sarcastically. "Pass me the butter, Sara. And your parents still take care of you? Or are you just living off of your sister?"

"Terry—"

" _Mom,_ stop—"

"Be quiet." Terry sends El a sharp look, quieting the brunette instantly, and Mike has to frown at that. "I mean, I have to ask, seeing as you're not doing anything and I know those little bikes are not cheap to maintain. Or are you a burglar in your endless free time as well? If you don't mind me asking."

Sara drops her spoon. "Mom, seriously—"

"I do." He kind-of snaps, trying to control his labored breathing as El chugs water like a champ. "Mind, I mean."

Theresa looks affronted, as if she wasn't expecting her offensive questioning to have a reaction. "Well, too bad, Michael. You're dating my daughter, and I'm in all my rights to question—"

"And I'm not a criminal. I have the right intentions with your daughter, which you would've known since the beginning if you bothered to give me a chance—"

 _Nomatterwhatnomatterwhatnomatterwhatnomatterwhat._

"Since the beginning? Didn't you throw her into a pool and assaulted her friend?"

"He deserved it," he says instantly, screwing up but too railed up to notice. "And that doesn't even matter—"

"It matters to me. How am I going to let Jane be around someone who inflicts violence so easily without a care? What if one day you do the same to her because s _he deserved it?_ "

"What?" He says coldly, feeling the anger burning in his veins at the implication.

"Theresa, that is enough." Hopper says gruffly.

"No school, no plans, no job," Terry starts loudly listing these things with her fingers, glaring at El. "The only thing he's good at is getting you in trouble and riding that awful motorcycle, which will get him killed someday, like all those good-for-nothing junkies-"

"He's sitting right here, Mrs. Hopper, in case you're too high on your horse to see me." Mike snaps at her, feeling his temper flare with every word falling from her mouth.

"Listen, boy, you'll never be enough for her and if you think—"

"I don't need your approval, if El wants to be with me there's nothing you can do to stop it—"

"Oh my god." Sara says into her palms.

"—too stupid to notice, I knew since the day you showed up into our lives—"

"-don't care about her or her feelings, only you—"

Terry's voice turns shrill. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER FEELINGS? She's my daughter! I only want what's best for her! You've only known her for a few months and now—"

"Yet you think she's stupid or has no sense of self-awareness! Stop trying to put her in a glass cage and let her live!"

"Mike!"

 _NO MATTER WHAT, MIKE!_

"Oh, like you? You think what you have is a life? Strutting around the city without a care in the world, drinking and surely doing drugs with your lot, a nobody without a future—"

"I'm clean! Why do you seem to think—"

"—long hair and ripped jeans, no wonder why your mother left you—"

 _NO MATTER WH—_

"What?!" He's so startled by what she does say that he doesn't even realize he shot up from his seat. A cold shiver runs down his spine. He feels like a child, naked and small, thrown into the open sea without any instructions.

"Mike, come help me with dessert!" El manages to strangle out, nearly toppling the chair over as she shoots up from her seat.

He's distinctly aware of her cold, sweaty hand gripping his as she drags him into the kitchen, and the last thing he sees before the door swings shut behind them is Theresa Hopper's flashing glare.

"Jesus fuck!" El swears, hiding her face behind her palms as she lets herself break apart.

"What was that?!" He rounds on her instantly, nearly vibrating with anger and adrenaline. "What did you tell her about my mother?"

"I—", El looks terrified, shaking hands clasped against her chest. "I only-"

"What?!"

"I only told her because I thought she would be—"

"What? Sympathetic? Kinder? You thought her heart would go fucking soft for me? Oh, poor Mike, his mother ran away, let's welcome him with open fucking arms—"

"Don't talk to me like that!" El screams at him, angry tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "You're not a pity case, Michael—"

"Well, you sure as hell thought of me as one!"

"I didn't think she would throw it in your face, okay? Maybe I was wrong but—"

" _Maybe_? Are you kidding me?! This was a disaster! I knew I shouldn't have come here I the first place, but there I go, trying to make you happy!"

"I never wanted this to happen! This is exactly what I was trying to avoid! And it's not just about me! I want you to put in an effort, not just—"

"This _is_ about you! Why didn't you say anything, huh? She shut you up, like a _dog_ , and you just sat there and listened like a little obedient—"

"Shut up, Michael!"

"What happened to standing up for yourself? Not a word from you! All I heard was ' _Mike, Mike, Mom, Mom'!_ You didn't even talk!"

"Maybe if you weren't in a screaming match with my mother I could—"

"Don't try to pretend this was my fault, El! What a fucking joke!"

"The fucking joke is—"

They never got to hear what the fucking joke was because the door of the kitchen swung open, interrupting them.

Sara walked in with big blotches of red on her cheeks, breathing hard. "We're literally outside, we can hear everything!"

"Stay out of this, Sara!" El snaps at her younger sister, face equally flushed in anger as her fists dig against her thighs.

"I'm leaving." Mike states, brushing past the pair to reach the door.

"Don't! Michael, don't you dare leave!" El screams at his back, quickly following his footsteps as they walk outside the kitchen again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hopper, I really tried playing nice." He says as he sees the man rubbing his eyes in tiredness, elbows on the backrest of the chair as he stands behind it.

"You should be sorry," Terry snaps from her place on the table. "Don't you dare coming back here again—"

"Theresa, enough!" Hopper finally shouts, turning his back on the whole scene to pace on the carpet as El continues to yell.

Taking his jacket, Mike walks quickly out of the dining room, checking his pockets for his keys and wallet, and heads to the front door.

"Are you seriously leaving?" His brunette girlfriend glares as he throws the door open, nearly jumping the steps down to the sidewalk.

"What does it look like?" He throws over his shoulder, mounting his bike and taking the keys out of his pocket.

"You're running again!" El screams indignantly. "Stay and face the problem!"

"You're my problem right now!" He screams back, turning his bike on and revving the engine.

"Michael!"

He doesn't even bother to look back at her as he races away from her house.

.

.

.

" _What are you doing?"_

"Uhm, hello to you too," Max chuckles, mouthing _'El'_ at Lucas when he asks who's calling. "I'm at Lucas's. What's up?"

" _Oh. Are you busy? I can call another time."_

Max frowns, hearing her sniffle. "No, what's going on?"

" _I just… I needed someone to talk to." The brunette says trough shuddering breaths._

"El? Why are you upset? What happened?"

It takes her a few seconds, but surely, El answers with a wail.

" _It all went to shit, Max!"_

"Oh, fuck." The redhead exhales, remembering the dinner El and Mike were going to have with her parents. "What happened?"

" _It was awful. My mom and Mike screamed at each other and Mike ended up leaving while we were fighting."_

"Hold on a minute," she says to Lucas, standing up from the couch and moving away from the noise of the TV. "What did your mom say?"

" _She started asking him about school and about college, and he tried to defend himself but, you know, he started being sarcastic too, and then my mom started telling him he's living off of Nancy—"_

"Oof," Max interrupts, making a face. "That's a low blow."

" _I know. But then she just went off, about how he was a nobody with a bike, and that he'd end up dead, and then she said something about his mom."_

"Wait, his mom? What does Mrs. Wheeler have to do with this?"

" _So here's the thing… Yesterday I told my mom a little bit about it. That Mike went to live with his sister because their mom basically walked out on them. I didn't tell her about their parents' stuff because it doesn't concern them and that's private stuff, but I think she got the picture. So, I thought she'd be a bit gentler, you know, mother's heart and all, but—"_

"Obviously she didn't."

" _No, and worse, she told him she knew, and that his mom's thing was basically his fault—"_

"Holy shit!"

" _And then Mike went berserk. I had to get him to the kitchen and then we started fighting. He said I didn't defend him or myself, that I was nearly a dog and my mom could order me around as she pleased, which is_ _ **not**_ _true. And…" her voice breaks, a whine escaping her lips as she tries to keep the tears at bay. "Like, I know I was wrong in telling my mom about Mrs. Wheeler but I only wanted to help, Max, I swear."_

"El, I believe you. How could you know all of this was going to happen? Your mom really dug in deep this time. Where are you?"

" _In my room. My dad is really pissed. He and my mom got into a fight over what happened and then she locked herself in their room. I don't want to be here, Max."_

"You want to come hang out at Lucas's? I can come and get you." She offers, biting her lips as she listens to El's continued sniffling.

" _No offence, but Lucas would just tell Mike everything. Can't we hang out some other place? I would tell you to come and sleep here but it's a school night."_

"Yeah, sure. Let me just talk to Lucas and then I'll get back to you, okay?"

" _Okay. Tell him I'm sorry about cutting your time short with my drama."_

"It's okay, toots. Don't worry. I'll see you in a bit."

She hangs up and slowly puts her phone back into her pocket. "Wow." She says to herself, pushing some hair back. Turning around, she walks back into the living room to see Lucas on the phone. "Hey."

"Hold on," he mutters as he pushes his fingers against the screen, pausing to read the incomings texts and then tapping again to respond. "There's an emergency."

"What emergency?" She frowns as she plops down next to him, resting her chin on his shoulder to read. "Oh, that emergency."

"I'm going to assume you know about this." Lucas says as Mike continues to rant through texts.

"Yeah, El just called. She wants me to go see her. She's really upset."

"It's okay. I think I'm going to go and see Mike too."

Max gathers her things as she listens to Lucas call his long-haired best friend, making sure he's home before he goes there.

"So, time to go."

"Time to go." He confirms, tugging her in to hug her, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head.

"When did we become nannies?"

"Why are our babies so needy?"

They share a laugh, another kiss, and once he's made sure the TV is off and the house is locked, both part ways to tend to their respective best friend duties.

.

.

.

The first thing he notices is a sharp yank on his fingers.

The second is the good smell in the air.

And the third comes as a hard smack to his butt.

"Get up, kiddo."

He frowns owlishly, curling his fingertips away from Papa's little teeth as he moves around his covers.

"Come on, kid!"

"What are you doing here?" He glares through red-rimmed eyes at a grinning Steve.

"I slept here. Now, get up, Romeo. Your sister is making eggs."

He closes his eyes again, swallowing against the cotton-ball-feeling in his tongue as Papa follows Steve out of his room.

Yesterday he and Lucas had gone to Joyce's bar to talk, and even though the oppressiveness in his chest had loosened up a little, he still felt like shit. The bottle of tequila they'd consumed between Lucas, Will and him didn't help either.

He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and put some shorts on before making his way to the kitchen.

Nancy had Steve in a headlock, pinching his cheek with her other arm as the guy tried to dance away from her hold, Papa yelping and barking around their feet. Even though she was really petite, Mike knew Nancy was a lot stronger than she looked. She also had a mean right swing.

He took a seat at the table, noticing the open laptop and papers already there. It was good to see his sister smile. She was always drowning in work, and while she had been far more relaxed, thanks to the other boy in the kitchen, he knew it took a toll on her.

"—Nance, he's tired, he must want food, Nance! Nancy! Stop—"

"—he's so hungry, he can get it for himself, there's no maid here—"

"Mike, help!" Steve finally yelps, trying to tickle his sister.

"Nancy, your nightgown is ripped."

"What?" She's momentarily distracted, and that's enough for Steve to break away from her hold.

"Okay, enough! I'm beginning to sweat and it's not even nine yet."

"You sissy." Nancy laughs, straightening the strap on her shoulder as she turns back to the stove. "Mike, you want coffee?"

"Yeah." He says through a yawn.

"Me too. Get up and put the brewer on."

"So bossy." He says under his breath but still stands up.

"What time did you come back last night?" His sister asks as she sprinkles salt on their eggs.

"Late."

"How late?"

"Late late."

"You're impossible." She rolls her eyes, flipping bacon with a fork. She turns to look at him, a hand on her waist while he busies himself with the coffee. "El called."

He frowns instantly. "Why did she call _you_?"

"It was a trap. You fell into it. You're fighting and I want to know why immediately." Nancy states with narrowed eyes.

"My god, Nance." He rolls his eyes, annoyed. "I had dinner with her parents and it sucked. There. That's all."

"That bad?"

"Yes, that bad."

"Steve, would you get my phone charger? It's in my room." She waits until her boyfriend is out of the kitchen and then turns to him. "What happened?"

"'s nothing."

"Mike."

"I don't want to talk about it, Nancy."

"Was it her mom? Her dad already talked to you." At his silence, she gets her answer. "What did her mom say to you?"

He pauses, wondering if it'd hurt to tell her, and then decides it wouldn't. "She started asking about school and stuff. I told her I wasn't in it. She said something about me… being a nobody and that she wouldn't let El be with someone like me."

"What else?"

"She also said I was a lazy ass who just got money from his sister and would end up dead—"

"What the hell?" Nancy glowers, crossing her arms with the fork still in her palm. "And what did you say?"

"I don't even remember, honestly. I was so angry, Nance." He sighs, fumbling with the stove switches until she slaps his hand away.

"Stop that. You'll burn the apartment down. What did El say?"

"That's the worst part, she didn't say anything, Nance. She just sat there like a statue, doing nothing." Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steve coming back, and he looks at Nancy with a shrug. "I just left."

"Well…" his sister says after a minute, flipping the bacon and moving the eggs again. "Just remember this isn't El's fault. If you're angry about her not saying anything, then tell her that, but keep in mind that she can't control what her mother says."

"I didn't find anything." Steve announces after their conversation drifts off.

"I know," Nancy nods as she plates the eggs. "My charger is on the table, I just sent you off because I needed to talk to Mike."

He chuckles at that. He likes that about Nancy; how blunt she is.

"You'll figure it out," she tells him as she carries the plates to the table. "You guys just need to talk."

"Is this about El?" Steve raises an eyebrow, handing mugs to Mike. He makes a noise, neither confirming nor denying it, but it's enough for Steve to guess. "You guys had a fight?"

"Steve, leave him alone."

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me, Mike," he pats the freckled boy's bare shoulder, giving him a smile. "But as Nancy said: you guys just need to talk it through. Tempers tend to flare; things are said in the heat of the moment. It's good to take the time to let the steam wear off, you know?"

It's kind of a great advice. "Thanks, Steve."

"Just don't let the time settle between you two."

.

.

.

"Hey." Sara says as she walks into her sister's room. "How are you?"

"Single." El scowls down at her phone, looking up when her sister gasps. "Or nearly."

"You and Mike are still fighting?" The blonde pouts as she sits on El's bed.

"I texted him in school, and he _just_ answered me. It doesn't look like he wants to make up. I hate him!" She huffs, throwing her phone on top of her vanity and crossing her arms. "There's a race tonight, so of course he's going."

"Mom and dad are still frosty with each other."

"They'll make up; it's not like they were the ones fighting."

Sara just watches her with a grimace, the long curtain of blonde curls framing her face as she clutches a pillow. "What did Mike text you?"

El glares at the wet towel in her hands, her damp curls falling over her shoulders. "He sent me a freaking emoji. He's so stupid, I hate him."

"So you said before."

"Max said he's been texting Lucas all day, so he's not necessarily disconnected or wordless. He just loves being difficult." She nearly growls as she slips into a pair of jeans and reaches for a soft sweater.

"I don't like seeing you upset."

"Yeah, well," El shrugs, glancing back at her sister as she ignores the sad tug on her lips. She has tried to swallow her tears, briefly crying after the disaster dinner, once she was alone in her room, before she made anger take over. "I don't like it either, but that's how things go sometimes, I guess."

She sits back in front of her vanity, letting her hair air-dry.

"Where are you going?" Sara frowns as she watches her brush mascara through her eyelashes.

"Obviously, I'm going to that race, sis."

* * *

 **A/N #2: Thoughts? As you know, it took me a while to finally write this, and part of it was because of the fight at the beginning. I didn't know how to make it progress, so I'm sorry if it's a bit stiff. Thank you endlessly to those who reviewed and commented asking me for an update. It broke my heart when the e-mails asking for the chapter arrived and I had nothing to deliver. Once again, I'm sorry. Writer's Block really sucks ass.**

 **I have most of next chapter written so I shouldn't take too long to update again. Still, I make no promises lmao. Review!**

 **Btw, if you guys would like to read Mike's hair straightening process, I made it into a deleted scene. It's the newest chapter of my Prompts story.**


	16. A crash in war

He didn't think she'd come still. After all, he did leave her screaming at her front door while he raced away from her house. She had tried to continue their fight through texts, but he was tired and didn't know how to not fight back, so he sent one single text in which he told her to stop being so damn scared of her mom and to come find him when she wasn't being a bitch. He finished that by sending her a kiss emoji, along with a waving hand in clear dismissal, which he knew would infuriate her.

She had read the text and didn't send an answer.

So, yeah. He didn't expect her to come.

And yet, he can't deny the startling jump of his heart the minute he spots her standing in the crowd.

She's wearing dark jeans, her favorite white converse and a large knitted pink sweater that looks way out of place in the middle of the black leather ocean. Max is standing next to her, twirling her car keys around her fingers while trying to engage the brunette next to her in a conversation. El just stares at him, arms crossed over her stomach and a deep scowl that doesn't waver even when the wind keeps pushing her hair all over her face.

She's such a sight, and he loves her, but damn it all if he's going to let her get away with this fight in her pocket.

"Stay here." Mike tells Lucas as he dismounts his bike.

"Where are you going? The race is in, like, literal five minutes." Lucas exclaims, frowning at his back when he walks away.

He knows she's watching because— even though she refuses to meet his eye— her chin is high in the air, gaze firmly planted some inches away from his shoulder, and Max has stopped trying, blatantly staring at him as she whispers his name obnoxiously.

"Don't sweat it, Max." He says as greeting, still not looking away from the sullen brunette.

El just scoffs, rolling her eyes in stubbornness as some of the people next to and behind her start taking interest in their conversation.

"Are you done?" _Being a grouch_ , he means.

"Where's your helmet?" She chooses to say, looking down at his bare hands.

"I think you've known for a while that people don't use that around here."

"I don't care what other people do," she hisses slowly, finally meeting his eyes in an angry stare that has him crossing his arms in an equal pose. "The helmet will protect that thick head of yours from the ground."

"Well, I don't need it, because I never fall." Mike sneers back, glaring down at her as Max starts to fiddle with her keys, sending them both anxious glances.

"You don't know that!" El finally exclaims, a hint of desperation bleeding through her voice as she leans in closer. "You love to pretend you're right and in control of everything but you don't know what the future beholds for you!"

"And you do?" He hisses back, glaring over her head at the few girls who were openly watching their argument. "At least I'm not afraid of facing whatever the future throws at me."

"I'm not—," she splutters, her nose scrunching up in absolute anger. "I'm not afraid." She spits out, her hands vices around her forearms from the tight cross she has them in.

"That's not what I saw last night." Mike sucks his front teeth, giving her a sarcastic smirk when she falls into sullen silence.

"Guys," Max finally sighs, rolling her eyes with a muttered _'fuck's sake'_ under her breath. "The race is starting. Either kiss and make up or walk the line." She motions to Mike with her hands, pointing over his shoulder with her chin, where he knows Lucas is waiting.

El stares at him in quiet awaiting, trying to decipher his next move. But he's angry and moody, and he doesn't want to let her get away with it that easily.

He looks down at his hands, brushing off the dark stains from his fingertips. He sighs again, trying to push his temper away and just... let it go.

"Want to race behind me?" Mike asks her, glancing up at her through his eyelashes with a ducked chin. He's wordlessly offering her to put their fight aside (at least for the moment), even though his pride has been hurt and they will have to talk about it eventually.

But, of course, his girlfriend isn't done.

"I think you have a Siamese to find." El responds with a fake smile, still standing rooted to the ground. Max groans beside her.

"Are you serious?" Mike questions loudly, feeling his upper body growing tighter with furious tension.

El only nods, the freaking smile not leaving her face even when she presses her lips to her fingertips. "There's your good luck kiss." She blows on her open palm, waving her fingers at him, and it's such a kick in the ass that he nearly growls when he turns around.

"That was way harsh, El." He hears Max say behind him, but her words get lost in the wind as he stalks through the pavement, clenching his hands into fists as the heavy thumping of his feet gets synchronized with the throbbing in his shoulder blades.

"Uh... should I, like, get a girl or something?" Lucas offers awkwardly, glancing between him and their girlfriends. "Would it help if I got a wig and rode behind you?"

"Lucas, for once in your life, shut your mouth." Mike snaps in exasperation, running his hands through his still-straight hair as the usual guy with the megaphone starts announcing the race.

"Hey," his best friend interferes, trying to anchor him back from his anger with two hard pats to his back. "Don't take it out on me."

"I'm sorry," Mike sighs, gripping the boy's shoulder with a regretful grimace. "I know. It's not your fault."

"Exactly, but we'll do the whole dicks before chicks later. Right now, I want you to focus." Lucas grips his shoulders, waiting for him to mount his bike before leaning in closer. "Look at your left. Slightly, don't make it obvious."

Following the instructions, he peers over Lucas' torso to see Troy. His undeclared rival is sitting two places away from him, with his hands on the handles of his motorcycle and his little snake eyes staring up ahead into the dark alley designated for the race.

"All that anger and impotence I know you're feeling," Lucas mutters lowly into his ear, eyes up, scanning the perimeter. "Chanel it. Bleed it out into adrenaline and win this race. You got this, big guy. Let's leave that fucker breathing your dust."

"I got this," Mike nods, absorbing the massive coaching his best friend just gave him. He gives Lucas' middle a squeeze, thanking him quickly while the other guy wraps his arm around his shoulders. "I got this, Lucas. I'm fine, it's fine. I got this."

"That's the spirit!" His best friend shouts, leaning back from their embrace to clap in encouragement. "Of course you got this! C'mon! You're great. You're awesome. You're totally rocking the straight hair. You look like a rockstar. You're perfect, you're a model, you look like—"

"Hey, fairies!" Troy yells over the noise, sneering at them as a Stacey slides in behind him. "You two done with your good luck kiss? There's a race to win!"

"You didn't give us enough time for tongues, but this will do!" Lucas yells back, flipping him off with his middle finger while Mike throws him a defiant smirk.

"Don't worry, I'll make this real quick so you can suck his dick afterwards!" Troy snickers, revving his engine as the crowd starts to lift up in spirits.

"Oh, totally! You better take him down quick so I can give you a congratulatory blowjob as soon as possible." Lucas tells him obnoxiously loud, making a few people laugh at his antics.

"I wouldn't be so sure of Prince Charming over here winning tonight."

"Don't I always?" Mike retorts, narrowing his eyes in smug satisfaction when Troy scoffs loudly.

With one last ruffle at his not-currently-curly head, his best friend leaves his side, promising to get him a girl quick enough before the race starts.

Sure enough, not even 2 minutes later, there's a blonde with vibrant-blue streaks in her hair and a huge pair of boobs that her black top can barely restrain as she appears in front of him.

"Hi," she says breathlessly, wrapping her bare arms around his middle so she can tuck the leather belt around him, leaving the buckles hanging against his back as she rounds his bike to slide in behind him. "Heard you got into a fight with your girl. Lucky for you, I was nearby."

"Yeah," he looks over his shoulder, meeting her icy eyes for a second before his gaze goes way back into the crowd, falling onto a furious scowl that melts into blushing cheeks and narrowed brown orbs that glare harder the minute she realizes he's looking at her. "Lucky me."

 _I tried_.

He shakes his head, turning back to face the front as the blonde girl informs him she's all buckled up.

"You're totally wining this," she tells him with a flirty smile, her neck propped on his shoulder so she can meet his eyes. "You always do."

"I know," even though he's practically tied down around Jane Hopper's feet, it has been a while since he was around the race scene. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be admired and fawned over, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't like it. "I like your hair, by the way. Very Avril Lavigne."

"Thank you!" The girl gushes, grinning prettily up at him as megaphone guy (Mike should seriously learn his name by now. He's gotta ask Will) gives the third and final call. "I was trying for Jade West, but I'm too blonde."

"I like the blonde," Mike says with a grin, and he'd forgotten how easily flirting rolls off from his tongue when he's not using it on just the one girl. "Keep it that way."

Whatever the girl was going to say falls into deaf ears, because he's no longer paying attention to her.

Although it felt good to act like his old self for a few minutes, he's not going to pretend his heart doesn't belong to the girl in the pink sweater a few feet away; even though he wants to throttle her at the moment.

Blonde looks good, but he only has eyes for brunettes. _One_ brunette, to be more specific.

He'll work it out, even if it means he has to let her cool down first. They'll work it out.

With that in mind, he grips the handles of his bike, revving the engine and heating the thing up while he waits for the signal.

Through his side mirror he can see Lucas and Dustin cheering for him, hands cupping their mouths to heighten the volume of their voices, while Ryan, Tom and Max (who's sitting on the former's shoulders) whistle and clap for him. His little pink-wearing fish is being held by Will, who's talking in El's ear while glancing up as to not miss the start of the race.

His whole team is here. The Party, as Dustin liked to call them.

That, and the way Troy kept on sending measuring glances in his way, is what makes his foot press harder down on the gas the minute he hears _'GO'_.

Wind makes his eyes sting with the fast whipping of his hair, but it all falls into background noise as his sight gets sharper. He doesn't know what it is. Maybe it's adrenaline, maybe it's a gift, or maybe it's just the way everything seems to blur into colorful streaks as he goes by, but this is what he means every time he says nothing else matters when he's racing.

A loud screech of rubber against pavement has him turning his head to the side just in time to catch Troy pulling up next to him.

He remembers he has blondie behind him when one of the Neon Girls turns the flashlight upwards, the signal for wheels up, and the belt gets tighter around his stomach while she squeals slightly. He grunts with the effort of keeping his front wheel up, along with the added weight of the girl and the speed he's got. Trying to control the predictable lurches of the bike, he exhales once the bike is lined up with the ground again.

Feeling the fresh pump of adrenaline in his chest, he embraces the sensation, remembering Lucas' words of encouragement, and pushes harder on the gas, nearing the edge of the alley. Two more laps and the win will be his.

Another biker tries passing him on his right, the loud humming of his engine penetrating Mike's head in alert. With a glare, he speeds up, blocking the guy's path and successfully gaining the lead. His wheels scrape the pavement as he slows down a bit, easing into the curve, avoiding falling into the lake bellow, and continuing the way onto the next passage.

His hands grip the handlebars, vibrating along with the tempo of the machine. He can't even remember the last time he raced like this. He just knows it has been far too long.

Troy is on his tail, most likely infuriated to be behind him again, so he kind of understands his need to give him a bump. Blondie screams as his bike gives a lurch, and he glares at Troy over his shoulder as the boy starts reaching his side.

"Scared of losing?!" He shouts over the noise.

"Fuck off!"

Mike pushes on the handles again, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that tells him to do something to Troy too. If he gives in into that distraction, victory might escape. Even if the little shit deserves it.

They go head to head into the other alley, dodging the walls as they narrow down into the main street. He mentally curses as he turns the handles too wide, leaving him a few feet away from Troy, who instantly takes the shot.

Mike scowls, pressing harder on the gas as another biker falls into step with him, Troy on the lead now.

All he can think is _shit, shit shit_. If he gives Troy the time to be the first one for more than a lap, he could very well lose the race.

He grits his teeth and focuses on gaining more speed as his usual competitor passes the screaming crowd.

.

.

.

"He needs to speed up." Will mutters nervously, tapping his foot against the floor as Lucas observes with rapt attention and El anxiously bites her nails.

"His turn was too far to the right." Ryan shakes his head.

"Kind of a good thing," Dustin chimes in. "If he had kept on, you know Troy would've just pushed him out of the curve."

El doesn't have the head to analyze the racing strategies the boys seem to know. Mike and her are fighting, and they'll continue to, but that doesn't mean her boyfriend speeding away with other guys doesn't rattle her nerves.

She had raced as a Siamese in a wild rush to prove herself to Mike, but it was a one-time thing. All this racing and violent pushing to win, what? Respect? Satisfaction? It doesn't make sense to her. El hadn't ever said that to him because she knows he likes it (for whatever reason), but she still doesn't get it. The fact that he could die in this doesn't help either.

She watches as he races past them, not even looking back. Which is kind of a good thing. She's scared he's going to crash if he doesn't keep his eyes on front.

"Relax a little, El." Max bumps her arm. "He's not going to burst into flames."

"You don't know that."

And as if God was sending her a sign, as if to say ' _El, you're right, this isn't good',_ they watch as Lee's bike clashes against another. It stumbles to the left after the impact, barely avoiding another collision, and lurches out of Lee's control. A collective gasp is emitted by the crowd as Lee smacks against the wall, sliding from his motorcycle and falling to the ground. The other bikers race off without stopping.

"Oh my god." El mutters into her palm.

"Somebody help him up!"

.

.

.

On the final lap, the fast pumping of adrenaline has the vein in his neck throbbing like there's no tomorrow, and his excitement has started to slightly blur his vision.

The humming of the engine underneath him becomes stronger as he lifts his front wheel for the final time, and he grunts with the effort of keeping it up while racing alongside Troy.

He would rather bite a piece of his tongue off than fall behind the other boy again, so he pushes himself on, ignoring the slight cramping of his hands around the handlebars and the dig of the girl's wrists against his stomach.

The screams of the people become closer, and once he sees them, it's like a switch is flipped on.

His heart jumps in his ribcage, his vision becomes narrowed again, and the only thing he's aware of is the accelerating sound of his bike gaining speed. Rubber burns against the ground, smoke pumping out of the escape, and Troy's growl of anger keeps him going.

He can literally taste victory, a small gasp of laughter falling of his lips as he feels himself gain the upper hand, when Troy bumps his back wheel.

His bike gives a lurch, the front wheel starting to curl to the right, and his stomach flips inside him because he knows he's about to turn and get left off facing the other incoming bikes. He could get crashed, his wheels could explode, or he could simply lose without an incident, but losing wasn't on the table for him tonight.

So, even though he's setting himself for a crash, he turns the handlebar sharply to the left and braces himself for the impact as he stumbles into Troy.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Troy screams as their front wheels get tangled, the speed he had dragging Mike up with him.

"Getting you back!" Mike screams back, trying to get his foot out of the hot machine's way without lifting it from the gas pedal.

The crowd screams in fear of watching an accident, and he realizes they're closer than he remembered. On instinct, he turns to the right again, managing to wobble out of Troy's way and pushes down on the gas with all his might.

He knows he won because of his rival's yell of fury, the megaphone boy announcing the grand and dangerous victory, but his speed is too harsh to be stopped at will, and he knows pressing on the brakes will just summersault him into the air.

He zooms past the crowd as he tries to lose the speed, but there's not enough space and he has lost some control on the machine. It's like riding a wild horse; it buckles underneath him even when he pulls on the reins, and he can only curse when it crashes against the steps of the bandstand.

His body gets thrown off the bike, and he could've rolled out to prevent a major injure, but there's also a girl still attached to his back, so he closes his eyes as they fall against the pavement, face-down.

.

.

.

"Jesus, somebody help them!" A girl screams behind her as she watches them tumble to the ground.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Lucas is screaming as he runs away, the other boys right behind him.

 _I told you so, I told you this was going to happen!_ Keeps repeating on her head, and she doesn't even realize she moved until she can see Ryan's fingers unbuckling the Siamese belt off from the girl and Will cradling Mike's head to see his face.

"—okay? Tell me something, man!"

"I'm fine," Mike is muttering. "I'm fine! Just get her off of me."

As soon as the blonde gets pulled from his back, Mike rolls to face the sky, a sigh of relief falling from his dry lips.

"Dude, I won," he says through a cough. "I won!"

"Hell yeah, M!" Tom grins down at him, hands on his waist as they watch their leader get to his feet.

"You could've killed her!" A girl, who's obviously the blonde's friend, snaps at Mike as she holds the Siamese racer close.

"So sorry, you did great!" Mike tries for enthusiasm, sending his Siamese a grin, but he obviously doesn't care for long because then he's turning to the megaphone boy.

"M! LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, OUR KING OF THE BANDSTAND REAMAINS UNFEATED AND VICTORIOUS!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" El scoffs loudly, but not a lot of people pay attention to her as they try to pat Mike's shoulders, as if he were some kind of God for nearly killing himself a few minutes ago.

Never mind that he's got blood running from his eyebrow and temple, or that his nose looks pilled at the tip, or that there's a nasty bruise forming on his cheek. All that matters is that he won. Because that's all there is, isn't it? These people never see past the invisible crown on the racer's head.

His eyes meet hers and, _finally,_ his grin loses some of its size as he spots her furious face. It emboldens her to walk his way.

"Let's talk." She hisses, snatching a hand around his wrist and dragging him away from the noisy crowd.

.

.

.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" He says as they reach one of the alleys he raced through.

"Are you concussed?" El turns around to face him with an incredulous expression. "Or you're just trying to be funny? Because you're not."

"Why would I be trying to be funny? You clearly have no sense of humor. And I still don't hear any congratulations." He crosses his arms as his jaw begins to tighten. Which he should avoid because it hurts a little.

"Oh, no, I do. You know what I find extremely funny? You!"

"It's been known to happen, I'm not only cute—"

"No, you know what? I don't find this funny at all! I hate this! Cut the chase and stop pretending everything's fine."

"God!" Mike throws his hands in the air, licking his lips while he huffs in exasperation. "You're- you're unbelievable, did you know that? I'm just-"

"YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE, MICHAEL!" She finally screams out, throat scratching from the force on her vocal cords. "What you did back there? You could've been dead and all you care about is me not celebrating your fucking win!"

"Nothing happened to me! Do you see me?!" He takes a few steps back, arms spread wide. "Nothing happened!"

"Look at your fucking face!" She grips his chin, forcing his face down so she can press a finger to his temple. He winces as soon as she makes contact with the gash there, and he slaps her hand away on instinct. "Is this nothing to you? You're bleeding!" She shoves her finger in his face, the rusty smear of blood on her fingertip.

"I'm fine! Look at me," he grips her forearms, trying to shake her out of her hysteria. "Look at me, El! I'm fine!"

"Shut up! Let go of me!"

"El—"

"Let go of me! Now! Don't touch me!"

"Fine! There!" He lets go of her arms brusquely, stepping back with his chest heaving from his accelerated breathing. "You're being ridiculous; I hope you know that."

"I don't care," she whispers, crossing her arms over her chest as she closes her eyes tightly. "I don't care." Her eyes are beginning to sting, and she didn't plan on crying this early on, but it's like everything could be falling apart around him and he doesn't _care_.

"I don't get you," he shakes his head slowly, hands on his hips as he stares at her. "I really don't get you. I try to let go a little, be better, for you—"

"Better? _This_ is better? You're so stupid."

"I'm not stupid! This is what I mean! Every time I try to talk about—"

"Stop with the ' _every time I do this and do that'_! We never talk about this so stop trying to make me look like the bad guy here!"

"All I wanted was to have a good time in the middle of your relationship war, but of course, with your fucking ego, and your pride—"

" _My_ ego?!"

"—come in here like I should be on my hands and knees, begging—"

"It takes two to tango, you gigantic egoistical ass! If we're fighting it doesn't mean it's my fault only!"

"I didn't even say that! I never said that!"

"Yes, you did! And all you're mad about is because I told my mother about yours! That's all it is! If—"

"Don't go there." Mike snarls quietly. "Don't fucking talk about her. This is about us! Stop trying to blame other people but us! And yes, you're right. I _am_ mad at you for not standing up to your mother. How many times have you bitched about her to me? But the minute you have the chance to fight for yourself, you shut down! Like a little kid who's—"

"I am not a child! Stop—"

"—with their mamma! Stop fucking hiding underneath the table and stand up for yourself!"

"STOP!"

"And like I said, come find me when you actually want to talk things through instead of screaming yourself hoarse."

His own voice is starting to get croaky, and he's nearly vibrating with anger, but some of the hard steel around his chest starts to liquefy when she puts her hands over her face, hiding herself from him. _Shielding_ herself from him.

She's whimpering quietly, her fingers shaking against her eyes as her shoulders shudder. He feels bad, _he does_ , but he doesn't reach for her. In some part of his brain, there's a voice that keeps repeating she deserves it, this is what she wanted.

"Is this what you wanted?" He finds himself asking, just to fill the void between them. "Us... like this?"

She stays silent for a few heartbeats, sniffling quietly against her hands while he scans his surroundings and tries to control his unbalanced temper.

It's then that he realizes they've nearly isolated themselves from people, even though he's sure they're not too far away— judging by the laughter and chatter that still makes it past his ears; their argument will surely be the cause of gossip for some people.

"I didn't want this." She says meekly, chest rattling with barely kept tears. "I never wanted this. But if this is what happens every time we have an argument—"

"Then what?" He interrupts tersely, feeling the vein in his neck start to pulse strongly. "Are you breaking up with me? Is that what you want?"

"I want to go home!" El nearly sobs, letting her hands fall from her crumbling face. Her stomach is still clenching like an elastic band from seeing him on the ground like that, and the fact that he's still not realizing the possible consequences his little stunt could have had is even more upsetting. "I don't want to be here anymore!"

"Then go home!" He nearly roars. "You didn't need me to bring you here, right? Then you sure as hell don't need me to drive you back!"

"Don't worry about it. I don't need you."

She's crying and he's still feeling like an asshole, even though he is not the only one at fault here, and he supposes he doesn't look exactly like a ray of sunshine at the moment, which explains why Max freezes like she just saw a ghost when she and Will walk into the ally.

"What the hell is going on?!" The redhead nearly yelps, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes and a wild wave of panic all over her face.

"Can you please take me home?" El pleads softly, hugging herself tighter as she starts walking away from him. "Please. I don't want to be here."

"Mike—"

"It's okay, Will." His hands are shaking, and even though he's glaring down at his own shoes, he knows Will can see the tight clench in his jaw (and maybe the stinging in his eyes wasn't just fire he wanted to pierce El with).

"Should I call Lucas?" Max asks worriedly, glancing down the street to where the boys were.

"No," Mike sighs again, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He can feel his curls start to make a comeback. "Just... take her home, please."

"I—", The redhead stays silent, torn between fixing her friends or just staying out of their business, but she doesn't really have much of a choice when she suddenly has an armful of El.

' _Duty calls'_ , Will mouths at her as El starts to cry loudly, shaking inside the redhead's arms. The smaller boy gives her a grimace, silently sharing her angst, and then walks away to stay with Mike, who has slid down the wall and is sitting on the floor with his arms on his knees and his head between his palms.

"Take her home, Max, please." Mike's hoarse voice carries through the ally, and if she wasn't already reaching for her mom's car keys in her pocket due to the sobbing brunette in her arms, she would've done it by the broken boy on the ground.

"I'll see you later." Max tells them, getting a wave from Will, who has an arm wrapped around Mike's shoulders and is currently ignoring the light sniffles the taller boy is trying to smother.

"C'mon, sweets," The redhead says softly, tucking El under her arm as she starts walking them away. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not even going to say anything about how long it took me to update. You guys know the drill by now. Did you expect them to make up that fast? Haha, you were wrong if you did. Apparently I can write angst now. I hope you liked this. Write who do you think is at wrong here and who should aplogize first: Mike or El?**


	17. The promise

**A/N: hey, it's been months. I do have to apologize for the ridiculous amount of time it took me to update this but I realized some things: I'm not having the previous desire to write like I used to. There's no inspiration, really. Not even season 3 gave me the kick I was hoping for (btw, what a fucking season we got, huh?). I'm really sorry for that. I think I lost interest but I keep pushing myself because I don't want to leave you guys hanging like this. I'm still an active FF reader and I'd hate to be in you guys' place, hoping for an update for months and the author just leaving the story like that. I won't do that to you. Yes, I have trouble writing. I don't have the time, and I lack the inspiration. Also, I had to literally sit myself down and think on the direction I want this story to go. As most of you know by now, the movie this story is inspired on is about a relationship that ends bad, bad, bad. In times like these it's what one would call a toxic relationship. And I don't want that for Mileven. I love my Mileven, but I know a lot of you won't like the way this goes on if I stick to the OG. So I decided to tweak the storyline even more. So, keep in mind that that will take even more time.**

 **Once again, I'm sorry for being a shitty writer and keeping you guys hanging.**

 **That being said, this chapter has what a lot of you have been asking for: SMUT. I wrote it more in detail than the previous one so read at your own risk. For those of you that don't want your virgin eyes to read that, read until things start getting steamy and then scroll down to the skip points.**

 **WARNING: Smut, smut, explicit smut lies ahead. Language and other sex-stuff talks.**

 **Thanks and happy reading. Please review!**

* * *

He is on his third mouthful of cereal when the doorbell rings.

He furrows his eyebrows, Papa barking in the background, chewing slowly until the little colorful loops have turned into mush on his tongue. There's a second ring, and this time it's accompanied by a knock. He puts his phone down on the table, licking milk from his lips as he makes his way to the door.

"Who is it?" Mike questions as he pads across the apartment. He is only in his pajamas, curls messy in their perpetual bed-hair state.

"Me." A soft voice answers him back and it's familiar enough to actually pause his steps. His eyebrows climb up his forehead, and he has to peek into the peephole to make sure it's really her.

As soon as he opens the door, he finds himself blindsided. He just woke up fifteen minutes ago, his body still slow with lingering sleep, they haven't spoken in four days, and she's standing right outside his home.

She's also wearing her school uniform. It's Tuesday. More importantly, it's 11 am, and he's sure her mother didn't drive her here, so what—

"Can I come in?" El interrupts his mental rambling.

"I—yeah." He steps back, gesturing inside. His hand finds the back of his head once she's in, and the silence takes residence between them.

El shuffles on her feet, arms crossed tightly over her chest, and her eyes stay glued to the back of the couch for 7 painful seconds before she meets his gaze.

His eyes involuntarily widen at the exchange, and he lifts his eyebrows in awaiting as she stares at him. She did come into _his_ home. He is waiting for some kind of explanation, or at least a word from her. So he mirrors her stance and keeps his silence.

El's eyes flutter, her fingers tightening on her biceps. "Hi."

"Hi?" He drags the words out, feeling his eyebrows furrow again as she purses her mouth.

Her feet shuffle again, and she blinks really fast as she tries to form a sentence that isn't _'hi'_ again. "I... uh... see you just woke up." _Stupid_ , she immediately thinks.

Mike just sighs, dropping his shoulders a bit as he considers what to do. He could cut her small talk short, be direct and ask her what her game is, or he could be mean and kick her out, or he could indulge her. He's not angry more than resentful, and maybe a little bit hurt (more than a little), so he does not have the heart to do either of the first two choices.

"Yeah... it's eleven am," he murmurs, pointing at his cereal bowl on the table with a jerk of his chin. "Why aren't you in school?"

She has the nerve to actually blush. Her eyes drop down to her shoes, a grimace contorting her face before she looks at him again. "I... skipped."

"The whole day?"

"Uhm, no, just the last hours. I went to Brenner's class."

He leans down to sit against the back of the couch. "He still giving you trouble?"

"No. Actually, he's been kind of... nice. But I still showed up. You know, just in case." Her head bobs up and down in a nod, causing some hair to fall. His eyes trace the shell of her ear as she brushes the strands behind it, and then they follow the path of her hand as she lowers it until it's resting beside her thigh.

He sighs again. "Why are you really here, El?"

Her fingers press her skirt to her leg nervously, pads tapping on the fabric as she bites her lip. He sees her stomach cave in as she takes a breath and he looks up to catch her biting her lips.

Her eyes are wide, shiny and full of panic. His heart gives a pang at the realization of how scared she is of talking to him, but still, he waits, he gives her time. She knows the words, she just has to want to say them.

"I... wanted to see you." El admits slowly. "I..." she huffs, looking down at her shoes. She sighs again, rolling her eyes to the ceiling before she mutters something to herself, too low for him to catch. "Look, I'm not perfect. I know I make a lot of mistakes and I know that telling my mother about yours is pretty high on the list, but I want you to understand where I'm coming from, Michael." Her gaze is pleading, a little desperate, and her hands have started moving. She always moves them when she is talking, always animatedly expressing herself, and he likes this, because it means she's losing up enough to let the words run freely.

"I've only had one boyfriend. James, _yeah_ , that James," she rolls her eyes when his eyebrows climb up. "And he was... always pristine looking, always with the right manners. He drove his dad's Porsche, he picked me and Sarah up from school, he visited me at home before we were official, he spoke politics with my dad and gossiped with my mom, and he always told them how he wanted to open his own financial firm after he went to college. He'd give me roses _just because_ , and he'd always compliment me in front of my mother—"

"Is there a particular reason why you're comparing me to your ex? Or—", He interrupts with a dead stare.

"Yes. Listen. He was always like that, and then he cheated on me. And I was heartbroken, but I got over it because there were two James for me. First there was the perfect son-in-law for my mother, and then there was the petty, stuck-up dude who thought he was too good for everyone else. I learned to know him, and even though it did hurt, I realized I was better off without him. The thing is, my mom kept the good side as reference. Every guy who I started talking to wasn't ever near her standards. And then I met you. And... you know what your scene is like, how your personality is. You're stubborn and sarcastic, and can be a little rude when you want to be," she stops when he throws her a look. "Just—Everything she wasn't ever used to. And the fact that you didn't bend to her feet like she expected you to didn't sit well with her."

"Yeah, no shit." Mike snorts ironically, licking his lips as he shifts on the couch.

"And I know she loves me, I know she does, but she's just so hard to please," her eyes start getting shiny, and his chest automatically tightens, but she just swallows and carries on. "I thought if I explained some of your background she'd be more understanding of the reason why you behave like you do. I wasn't looking for her pity, Mike, I really wasn't. I just wanted her to understand a little. I thought maybe she'd see you different, but… I thought wrong. Obviously."

He knows she didn't really do it with malice, he'd had some days to reflect on everything, and maybe he had reacted too brash, but he couldn't get his emotions in control then.

"I love her," El mutters looking down at her feet again. "She's my mom. But she and I have very different opinions on you. And even though she raised me to be a goody-two-shoes, I know better now. I'm older and I can make decisions for myself. I'm not a child," she looks directly into his eyes while she says that, her jaw set. "I can stand up to her. But it's hard, I need you to understand that. My whole life I've been the perfect girl, because I never really wanted different than what my parents gave me. And I want you. I want you and I'm really challenging my mother because, for once, I'm making decisions about my life that don't involve her choices, and it's... it's just hard."

His hands are clenching the backrest of the couch so hard he's scared his fingers will break through the fabric.

"So, I'm sorry," El licks her lips, still toying with the hem of her skirt. "I'm mature enough to realize I screwed up, that what I did was wrong and that I hurt you, but I'm not the only one at fault here."

"Why?" He frowns.

"Why I'm not the only one?" She scoffs, hands coming up to her hips, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing because that pose always amuses him. "You were so mean to me. The things you said were out of line and that's only about dinner with my parents. What you did at the race—"

"Oh, not this again," Mike groans out, grimacing in annoyance. "El—"

"Yes, this again." She snaps. "You don't realize how dangerous that was, do you?"

"Everything was fine! Yes, I tumbled down a little—"

"You scraped your face all over the ground! You could've broken something—"

"El, it wasn't the first time, I—"

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? It doesn't matter if it's your daily routine, it's dangerous!"

"It's not like I'm a pro, or anything, but you've got to understand that in the rush of things sometimes we do some stuff to win, and yes, it could be dangerous but it doesn't happen to me. Like, ever—"

"Are you hearing yourself?" El says lowly, staring at him with incredulity in her eyes. "You're not God, Michael. You can't predict the future—"

He rolls his eyes. "I didn't say I was, just—"

"What if that night it did happen to you?" She interrupts. "What if you didn't get your leg out in the right time and Troy's bike just rode it out of your body? A broken leg? A severed ankle? A broken nose? A bad hit to the head and that is it. _Michael Wheeler, dead by a slam to the floor_. Is that how you want to go out?"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Mike scoffs. "I don't do it all the time, El. I try to avoid it, I try to race as cleanly and precisely as I can, but that asshole was cheating and I had to do something about it, okay? I don't go around looking for death, which, by the way, nobody that I know has died by a severed ankle—"

"It was just an example!" El huffs, pursing her lips. "And maybe you don't know them because they're dead."

"It doesn't happ—okay! _Fine_ , I admit that I was reckless. Yes, I know it was dangerous and that it can result in a tragedy—not by a severed ankle, though—but I'm fine. Okay? Nothing happened, and yes, it was wrong and I know it scared the hell out of you, but it's in the past, okay? No matter how many times you chew my ass about it, it won't change the fact that I fell."

"I know that," she rolls her eyes. "Words can't change time. I just… wanted you to understand how I felt while you did it. It's not something you can easily forget. Like, if I think too much on it it's like my brain just shows me images of you lying on the floor, and then they change to you on a hospital bed, and, like-I know. Okay? I know you're fine, but… it was just scary. And I know you get it now, so…" El trails off, shrugging her shoulders.

He nods, watching the way her mouth purses. God, it's eleven am. They're supposed to be fighting. Why is he thinking of literally eating her up?

"I'm sorry." Mike offers, lifting his butt from the back of the couch. He stops in the middle of the hall, a few steps from her. He feels like they're getting to a better place, but still won't get too close if she doesn't want him to. "I'm sorry I scared you. I won't do it in front of you again."

She huffs at that. " _In front of you._ "

"Well, I can't lie and say it won't happen again. Like you said, I'm not God, I can't predict the future." He throws the words back at her, no malice intended, and watches as she stares at him. "Is that enough for you?"

"I don't know, Michael." She sighs, gripping the straps of her backpack and looking sideways.

"You know what I don't know?" Mike frowns after a few seconds, narrowing his eyes at her as he realizes something. "I don't know when you started calling me by my full name."

It's so absurd and out of context in the middle of their weird fight that she can't help but burst out in laughter.

His lips grow into a slow grin as he watches her eyes crinkle, her teeth gleaming as she laughs with her mouth fully open, and as she tries to cover her face with her hand. She's beautiful and her smile has always been disarming for him.

"You're ridiculous." She gasps out, leaning out of the wall and into his space. It's his chance, then.

"You're laughing," he shuffles closer, slowly reaching out until his hand is wrapped around her wrist. "Fight's over. That means I get to kiss you now."

"Shut up for a second." El tries to control herself, burying her mouth against her palm as her laughter continues to tumble out of her lips.

"C'mon," Mike smiles, grabbing her other hand as she lifts it to place both against her face. He pulls on the slender bones of her wrists, softly until she reluctantly lets him lower her arms down. His fingers trail down her palms, fingertips leaving tingles on the skin until they reach her own digits, interlacing them between his own. "Your laughter really does it for me, you know?"

"I should've learned that sooner," she whispers, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he leans down closer, teasing her nose with his. "Then we could've avoided all of this mess."

He stays quiet for some minutes, contemplating her face. She tried to fight it ever since he got on his bike, but she really just wanted to forgive him and him to forgive her and just put all of this behind them already. She missed him terribly.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, tracing the palm of her right hand with his thumb.

Her throat bobs with her gulp, because even though she had cried enough, this whole thing was way over blown, and just thinking of it makes her emotional all over again. "I'm sorry too," she whispers back, biting her lip when she feels her eyes start watering. "I'm sorry I let this go so far."

Mike shushes soothingly, unlacing one of his hands to place it on her cheekbone, ready to gather any tears. "I'm sorry I let it get this bad too. We were—"

"Stupid. And immature." She sniffles, looking down for a second before she meets his eyes again. "I love you."

"I love you too. And I'm so sorry, El." He lets go of her other hand to place it on the base of her neck, tilting her chin up so he can bump their noses together. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

"Just do it, loser." El grins, leaning in and capturing his lips with hers.

It's soft and warm, a little flaky because of his chapped lips, and also a little bit wet, but he fixes that with his thumb, gathering the leftover tears as soon as he feels the droplets fall from her lashes.

"I missed you," he mumbles with a sigh, kissing her back with fervor. "I missed you so much."

"Me too," she whimpers quietly, sneaking her fingers into the collar of his shirt to pull him down closer. There's a sudden itch she'd been trying to gulp down that only he can scratch. "I wanted to give in and call you, but..."

"Pride." He guesses, moving down her lips to her chin and neck, biting into the soft skin and getting a breathy moan in return.

"And ego." She agrees, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder as he continues sucking on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

She kind of wants to move things along, but this will only be their second time, and she's kind of hesitant on how willing he is to be with her after they only made up a few minutes ago.

"Mike—"

"I know," he pulls back, smoothing his hands over her hair with a pant. He grips the straps on her shoulders, pushing back until her backpack lands with a thud by her feet. His pupils have that large circle of darkness that has become familiar to her— the one she rather likes seeing— and she can't help but grin along with him, because she knows that he found it in her eyes as well. "I know. We're cool though? We're fine?"

"We're fine," she reassures, biting her lip as she pulls him down again. "Fine."

This kiss is messy and wet, hands squeezing skin and teeth pulling at lips. His breath is sweet and a little tangy, his tongue a familiar rasp that makes the hairs on her body stand up. There's an urgency inside of her that starts seeping out of her pores, desperation dampening the air as Mike curls his fingers around the roots of her hair, pulling out a groan out of her mouth. Her legs tremble in wanting, her heartbeat speeds up, and her core starts throbbing.

With shaky hands she pushes the hem of his shirt up, bunching the fabric just bellow his pectorals as her fingertips trace the skin up. She feels his nipples harden under her palms, and she tweaks one between her thumb and pointer finger, earning her a bite.

"I liked that." Mike pants against her mouth.

"Yeah?" she mumbles back, doing it again. He moans, nipping her chin and following the lines of her throat down as she does it once more. Her breath rattles in her chest when he thrusts up against her, his shirt falling somewhere behind him. The feel of his hardening member pressing against her thighs... yeah, she missed this.

It doesn't take long after that for her to be toeing her flats off, fingers greedy on the naked skin of his chest, and his mouth feels hot and damp as it traces down her neck in sloppy kisses.

The cool air slashes against her stomach as he walks them down the hall, fingers working on her shirt as he licks the side of her neck. He works faster when the fabric of her collar keeps getting in his mouth, and once he feels the lapels open over her chest, he drapes it off her shoulders. Her bra is stark white against her tanned skin, the fleshy tops of her breasts peeking at him from the cups, and the tie that hangs between her mounds has him groaning at loud. He smiles against her chest when the feeling of his teeth has her squirming, soft intakes of breath by his ear when his fingers trace from her palms to her naked shoulders and under the straps.

"Mike—"

"Uh-huh." There's a damp circle on the fabric of her bra from where he's swirling his tongue. Her nipples pebble under the cups and he feels the hard tips between his lips, even through the fabric. Lips-to-bra isn't as fun as lips-to-skin, so he starts feeling around her back for the clasps as he tries to simultaneously open the door to his room, mouth still attached to her chest. He twists the handle, walks her backwards and into the room, and just as she starts moaning, it turns into a startled yelp as a bark welcomes them.

"Shit."

Papa starts running circles against them, barking non-stop at El as she pushes him away. "I'm not doing anything with you until he goes away."

"He's just a puppy, he won't know anything." Mike dismisses as he grips her waist, still trying to unclasp her bra.

"Mike!" She insists, slapping his shoulder. She's _throbbing_ , her breasts are practically pulsing with need for his attention, but that little dog is still annoyingly barking at her, getting too close for her liking, and she won't screw him anywhere near the tiny beast. Her foot kicks out at Papa, and she yelps in alarm when he _dives_ for her, his teeth sinking into the fabric of her socks. "Michael!"

He has the nerve to laugh, finally releasing her chest-cage, but she pays no mind to that as the puppy attached to her foot still doesn't let go.

"Get him off!"

"Okay, little terror," he squats down to her feet, hands going to Papa's jaw to pry him away from her. "Stop cock-blocking me."

Once he has him securely in his hands, he stands up and looks at her.

"You look ridiculous." El states breathlessly. He's shirtless, hair messy, there's a tent in his sweats and he's holding a Corgi. It'd be a funny scene if they weren't trying to get busy at the moment.

"I'm gonna… lock him in Nancy's room, or somewhere. Be right back, lose the bra but keep the tie."

"Wash your hands!" She calls to his back. She looks around his room once she's alone, pulling her bra down her arms and away from her body as she walks to his desk, folding it neatly and placing it on the surface. She takes off her socks as she eyes a facedown frame, and she rights it up with the knowledge of what photo it is. He told her, some months before, that _that_ particular photo was his favorite of hers. "Bastard." She huffs quietly, confirming her suspicions as her face meets her eyes.

"What?" he mutters behind her, and she gasps out loud when his cold hands appear on her stomach.

Her mouth hangs open, breath shuttering out as his damp fingers trace up her goosebumps and lift the weight of her breasts on his palms. His mouth kisses her shoulder, tongue tracing the curve to her neck, and she can't help but rock back into him.

"Didn't want to see me?" She whispers heavily into the silence, the mood back on as he squeezes her chest and breathes against her skin.

"Huh?"

She shrugs the shoulder he's on, making him look up to the photo she's gesturing and she groans when he pinches her nipple in response. "Was it too much? My eyes?"

"I was fucking pissed at you," he mutters against her neck, lifting a hand to wrap around the base of her throat as he bucks against her. "Didn't want to come with your smile there."

She gasps when he squeezes her throat, her breath cutting short just to reflow again, and if would be a bit scary if she wasn't so turned on by it. "You touched yourself?"

"Yeah," he inhales sharply when she parts her thighs, the tip of his bulge trapped between them. "Wasn't the same."

El moans when he stars building a rhythm- _thrust, thrust, grind, thrust_ —and she finds herself being lowered chest-to-desk. She looks over her shoulder at him, meeting his dark and hazy gaze as he thrusts against her. His hand traces over the naked skin of her back, the other gripping her waist, and even though they're literally doing second-base right now, she feels herself getting wetter. It's ridiculous, they already had sex, this should feel less good when she's had the real thing, but her breath keeps getting caught in her throat and her fingers tighten on the fabric of her skirt, along with her inner walls. She's so aroused it's surprising, and even though he's harder than a brick, he doesn't seem to be in a rush.

Mike grips her hips with both hands, bending over to rest his chest to her back, and his dick twitches at the groan she gives. "Feels good?" he murmurs to her ear.

"Yes." El pants out. Her chest feels tighter now with his added weight. The haze of her loss of breath flow has her feeling everything. Every move of his hips, every exhale, every mutter of his lips, she feels it on her skin. It makes her hotter, the feeling in her lower belly making her squeeze her thighs closer, trapping him tighter and making him groan.

"Do that again." He commands in a rush.

She squeezes her thighs closer, pinching his head, and the guttural moan he gives has her panting louder. His hands move lower, gathering the hem of her skirt and pushing it over her hips. His fingers trace the lines of her pink panties, slipping under it to flick over the sensitive skin of her slit, and he closes his eyes against her hair as she whines. He moves away from her, fingers digging into her hips as he pulls her underwear down, nails scraping soft skin until his knuckles touch the sides of her knees. He trusts her to wiggle them the rest of the way off. Mike leans in, nose touching the unblemished skin of her backside, making her squirm and pant, until he bites into the plump globe.

"Get up." He kisses her back, thumb rubbing the bite mark on her ass, and she takes five seconds to breathe and order her brain to make her arms respond to her. She pushes up against him, nearly tumbling as she shakes her panties off her ankles, and she turns around to join her mouth to his.

Her arms circle around his neck, breasts pressing against his chest as his hands squeeze her backside under her skirt. Her tongue wrestles with his, trying to balance the push of tongues and the pull of lips equally. She's still not used to French kissing, not when they're kissing as heatedly and rapidly as this. He's more experienced than her, knows how to wrap his tongue around hers but still caress her lips, somethings she's still mastering without keeping her mouth open like a fish. But it's her, and it's him, and they're patient with each other. He never teased her for being a virgin, and he's never made fun of her after she wasn't. She's comfortable and more than a little eager to keep practicing and polishing her recent sex life, now that it exists. Which is why she smirks when she finds herself being pushed onto her back.

"You've got no idea how good you look right now." Mike groans, slipping a hand between her breasts, over the tie, as she lifts her legs and places her feet to his stomach. Her hair is a halo of chestnut curls around her heated face, cheeks alive with color, eyes wide, glassy and darkened, her rosy tips standing up at the attention of his hands, and with once glance down he finds her glistening. She's the pure, vivid image of his wet dreams, and the sweet ones too, because she appears on those too. She's a dream of any kind.

She rises her eyebrows when he fists her skirt. "Got a thing for school?"

He smirks, touching the knot of her tie. "There's this one high schooler, she's such a sight, you don't know the half of it. She has this uniform, because she's a private school kid, prissy, nose-in-the-air, finger-jabbing, you know the likes, and she wears this little skirt, which drives me—", he leans down, pressing his nose to hers. "Absolutely crazy. So, yeah. She looks hot as fuck in the uniform. I didn't know I wanted to fuck her in it until I saw her."

"So, you got a school kink," she says breathily as she takes his face between her hands, rubbing her uncovered sex against his clothed one. "Are you into role-playing too?"

He kind of short-circuits, his eyes fluttering at her tone and words. "What?"

Her fingers loosen the knot of her tie, slipping it past her head and onto his.

"What are you doing?" he questions as she tightens the garment around his neck. She hasn't stopped grinding against him, and he's pretty sure the fabric will dissolve from the amount of juices they're creating.

"Fulfilling your kink." She grins wolfishly, pulling on the tie until her tongue slips past his lips, sliding against his and curling around it.

He feels so hot he thinks he will melt. He'll turn into a poodle of flesh, blood and cum and she'll have to call an ambulance because he won't come back to life.

He breathes harshly against her lips when she breaks the kiss. His hands are squeezing the hell out of her sides, and he flexes his fingers to try and not to bruise her.

"I think I'm ready, Mr. Wheeler." El murmurs to him, dark irises under heavy eyelids, and he feels the electricity run down his veins and shoot into his dick.

She sits up on the bed, chest heaving and toes curling in anticipation as he slips his sweats and boxers down his legs, erection bobbing against his stomach.

He slides on the bed until his back is pressed to the mattress, head on the pillows, and he extends a hand to her when he catches her confusion. "Come here. Put your legs on either side of me." She shuffles onto her knees, gripping his fingers until her wetness is pressed to his stomach. His hand searches for a condom in the drawer of his nightstand while he kisses her. She starts grinding on him again, and now that the exposed head of his member is near her flesh, it takes all his will to not just plunge into her.

"God, where is it?" He mutters in frustration, hand still groping for a condom. El breaks the kiss, letting him sit up a bit to peer into the drawer until he comes back with a silver square. "Hope you brought your hat, cowgirl." He murmurs as he rolls the condom on, securing the latex on his shaft. He meets her eyes when his finger touches her flesh, probing and searching until he slips one inside her. Her mouth drops open, hand resting on his chest, and he groans as her walls squeeze his digit.

"We'll go slow, okay?" He says against her mouth, butterfly kisses to her lips as his finger draws a circle inside her. She nods, and once he's pretty sure his dick will combust if he doesn't pay attention to it, he grips her hips and lifts her over him.

"I just… sit on you?" El whispers in confirmation, watching as he guides himself in. Once he feels the tip go in, he lifts his hips and lowers her down.

 _Fuck._

" _Yeah._ " He rasps out, both in reaction and answer, closing his eyes at the sensation of her. Her nails sink into his chest and his eyes fly open to see her face. Her lips are parted in pleasure, eyes half-way open and a moan out of her throat, but she still winces.

"Easy, okay?" he guides her gruffly, gripping her hip as he watches himself disappear inside her. He bites his lip, trying to control his breathing, to forget himself in favor of lessening her pain. Her knees are digging into the mattress, hands supporting herself against his sternum as she keeps lowering her hips until he's hilted inside her. She takes some seconds to adjust, eyes closed to feel everything. It's a new position, the angle makes him be deeper, and the lingering ache of her recently-lost virginity is still present. Still, she finds that the more she wiggles he hits a spot in her that makes her forget the ache.

"El?" Mike questions after she stays like that for too long. His hands are gripping her skirt over her hips, and his eyes, although dying to flutter from the squeeze of her, are open and alert on her pinched face. "Are you okay?"

She exhales once, licks her lips, exhales again, and then she grips the tie around his neck, bringing him closer. "Move."

He bounces his hips as she kisses him heatedly, building up the rhythm until she's panting against his mouth, eyebrows pinched together and fingers curled into the tie. She feels his every move, feels every slide of his member against her walls, and she feels incredible. It's like there's a million butterfly wings in her lower belly, a zap of lighting running down her spine and buzzing her pores open every three or so thrusts. The noises coming out of his mouth are music to her ears, and it just adds to the mood around them. She feels like drowning with him, here, in his room, all alone.

"God." Mike moans into her cheek. One of his hands is still holding onto the fabric of her skirt while the other has circled her waist, palm open between her shoulder blades. His knees lift up, he plants his feet on the bed, and with a solid grip, he starts thrusting harder, meeting her inner thighs with a smack that resounds on the walls.

She chokes on her own spit at the change in rhythm, feeling the plunge harder than ever. Her chest feels tight, as if all the air has left her lungs and she tries to grasp it back inside with harsh pants against his temple as she braces herself on his chest and tries to push down as much as she can to chase the delicious feeling inside her.

She has no notion of time, or of her own self, except for the sensations of her body, so she has no idea she's even talking until his voice breaks through her haze.

"—that, huh? Keep saying my name," his breath is hot and breezy against her ear, and her sweaty neck breaks out in goosebumps. "Keep saying it, El."

"Mike," she gasps out, squeezing her eyes shut, just letting him hit _right there_ without any complains. "Mike."

Her world spins on its axis as she feels herself being pushed back. She opens her eyes and stares at her favorite picture: Mike, sweaty and red in the face, freckles pale underneath the flush and eyes as dark as sin. His hair is a bigger mess than ever, the tie clinging to his chest as perspiration bursts out of his pores along with desire.

"Ah!" she cries out as soon as he thrusts into her again. Her thighs are wide open on either side of his hips, the skirt—the _freaking_ skirt, why did she even listen to him? It's just in their way—damp with the sweat on her legs and on his hands. Her nipples pucker up when his chest makes contact with her own, and she sighs at the feel of him draped over her.

Her hands reach around his head, fisting the curls on the back of it, and a gasp rips out of her mouth as he takes the back of her thighs in his hands and _pushes_. His forehead lands on hers and she swears she's never felt more connected to him than in that moment. His eyes lock with hers and it's like he's staring right into her soul. There's specks of golden in the brown, little flicks of light around the pool of darkness. His pupils are blown wide, his eyelids fluttering with every thrust, and his lashes brush against her eyebrows every few seconds. His hair tickles her chin, it creates a heated curtain around them, making the moment even more intimate. The bedsheets melt under her sweaty back, and she feels like she's in a cloud of cotton, stuffy and hot, but so, so amazing.

Mike leans down and kisses her, breaking their gaze. His tongue feels heavy on hers, his breath hot in her mouth, and she can't stop herself from doing those ' _ngh, nmf, ungh'_ noises she thought she'd never make when the pressure of his hands makes more space for him between her legs. He's hammering fast and hard inside her, and it feels incredible, like she has reached a new level of pleasure, so she rips her mouth from his to actually _breathe_.

"Yeah?" He rasps out, deep creases between his eyebrows from furrowing them. He must've found something in her face that shows how good she's feeling, so she just nods and receives the kiss he deposits on her lips. He pecks her again, holds her gaze for a minute—or two, she can't count—and then slides his damp face into her neck.

He buries a moan there, and she yelps when he bites the flushed skin of her throat. Her wide eyes stare at the ceiling, squeezing and releasing as he keeps chasing that tingling sensation inside her.

There's a tightness on the juncture of her tights and pelvis from where he's holding her open. She's not used to being…well, _open,_ and even though she tries to ignore it in favor of the pleasure he's giving her, it just won't go away.

"Mike," she calls breathily, trying to pull one of her knees down. "My—ah! It hurts—"

He takes a minute to register her words, chest heaving from how hard he's breathing, but there's an alertness in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Am I hurting you?"

She takes his cheeks in her palms, bringing him down again to kiss him softly. "Just… my thighs." She gestures lamely to where they're joined, making a move to close her legs. He seems to get it, because he nods, releasing her legs. They fall heavily on either side of him, and she takes the time to breathe and calm herself a little. She's distantly aware of the red marks on his shoulders. She didn't even realize her hands were there.

His hands slide underneath her, palms open against her shoulder blades once more, and once her thighs are draped over his, he tugs her up. She grunts, the unexpected heaviness of her body surprising her a little, but then he's shifting them on the bed, and she finds herself sitting on him, his back against the headboard.

Her lips tug up into a lazy smile when he meets her eyes, and he chuckles heavily, pulling her closer to him as her arms circle his neck. "Hi." El whispers.

"Hi, fish." He grins, thumb brushing her lower lip. He kisses it, licking it until he's sucking it into his mouth, and just like that, the mood is back on.

This time she knows what to do with herself, so she grips his member-pulling a groan out of him that sends shivers right down to her talons—and lifts her hips until the head brushes her lower lips, and then she sinks on him.

They start building a rhythm, her belly sliding against his, her breasts smashed between their chests, and the puckered button that is her clit rubbing against his pubic hair.

"You're warm," Mike whispers against her mouth. "Around me. You're warm." She gets what he's talking about then, and she groans, taking his chin in one hand to kiss him harder. She bites and sucks at his puckered mouth, burying gasps into their kisses as he starts bobbing her up and down on him.

"Like that," she mutters desperately, feeling the tingling pulling at her walls. She closes her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows against his chin as he lowers a hand down, rubbing at her clit with a thumb. " _Ah_ , like that. Just like that."

"You feel so good," Mike starts mumbling to her, watching the way her shoulders start jerking and her spine straightens up. "You look so hot like this. So messy and hot for me—"

"Mike—"

"—control like this, you have no idea. I want to keep you here forever, I'm never letting you go—"

"Mike! Ugh—"  
"—leaving this bed, I'll make you come like this everyday—"

" _Jesus,_ Mi—"

"—beautiful, I love you, I want to marry you, you've no idea… _shit_ —"

Her legs start quivering, her stomach caves in, and the pulsing in her clit feels like it's gonna burst, _toomuchtoomuchtoomuch._

"Too much!"

" _El,_ c'mon—"

She comes with a gasp, her knees digging into his sides, one of his hands against her lower back to keep her down, and her nails digging into the skin of his sternum as she bites his jaw. Her eyes squeeze so hard she's afraid they'll never see the light again, shivers running down her spine and liquid rushing from her core. Her shoulders hunch in, and she feels Mike's arms engulf her hard, shielding her from the enormous amount of pleasure she's going through.

El whimpers, Mike's hand closing around hers, and she opens her eyes to see his fingers prying her nails off his chest. He's breathing hard, hips jerking sporadically, eyes closed in pleasure, a vein prominent on his forehead. He helps her ride out the last waves of her orgasm, and she's more than a little disappointed that she missed him coming. He slips out of her, and it looks like an effort for him to open his eyes again and lift her off. He pulls the full condom off, and once he flings it to the direction the trashcan is (tragically missing), he pulls her back to him, head thudding against the headboard in exhaustion.

They stay like that for a while, trying to catch their breath back and savoring the aftermaths of their orgasms.

.

.

.

He runs his hand up and down her back, eyes closed in relaxation, and she breathes in the smell of him. Sweat, musk, a little bit of his shampoo, and other fluids she has a guess or two of where they came from.

The air coming from the vents dries the dampness of her skin in the time they take to rest; she hears Papa barking in the distance, probably annoyed at being locked away from them.

Her heartbeat thuds next to his ear, and he feels the heaviness in his eyelids once she starts running her fingers through his sweaty curls.

"You need a haircut." El mumbles against his head, looking at the long strands between her fingers.

"Why?" he speaks into her skin, lips brushing the softness of her chest. "Don't like me like this?"

"It's just getting too long."

"Yours is long and I like it. I like seeing it fanned all over my bed."

She smiles at that. "Are you competing with me? If you don't cut it, you'll have to tie it next time we have sex. Can't have your head all tangled with mine."

He lifts his head with a smirk. "What's that about my head tangled in you?"

"Oh my God." She rolls her eyes with a laugh.

"I thought you liked that."

"You're impossible, Michael."

"Mmmm," he hums as he traces her cheekbone. "There's my full name again."

"What? I like your name." She mumbles against his finger, watching his face as he traces her features.

"You do? What other things you like about me?"

Her eyes turn down, catching the marks her nails left just above his left nipple. She touches them just as she feels his fingers skimming past her chin. She doesn't want to get too cheesy, but in this soft moment they're having, just after being together again, after the fight and all, she finds herself needing to say more.

"El?" Mike lifts an eyebrow, not overlooking her sudden quietness, tracing the lines of her neck and the hollow of her throat.

"Everything." She mumbles shyly, looping a finger on her other hand into the dent of his bellybutton.

"You like everything about me?" The corners of his lips tug up, and he understands her vulnerability. "Even when I'm a brute and an animal?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim the lines of her shoulders and then they trace back up her neck, until he grips her chin and lifts it up to catch her eyes. He pushes back some of her hair, baring her face and leaving her expression open to his eyes. He thumbs her lips again, and he pulls her in for a kiss, trapping her hands between them.

It's soft and sweet. Tender. Just what they need from each other.

"I love you." El smiles, resting her forehead to his. He swears he feels his heart swell up.

"I love you too. So much."

Her hands get free and she circles his wrists, fingers touching the little hairs on his arms. "I really am sorry." she whispers, biting her lip after.

"I know you are," Mike nods, brushing their noses together. He smiles once she crunches it, and he kisses the tip before continuing. "I'm sorry too. But," he takes a deep breath, his eyes going distant for a minute. "My mother always said mistakes are meant for learning. And this will help us grow."

She nods, waiting for him to continue. He kisses her again, his thumbs tracing her jawline.

"We have to be better, El," he says seriously, their eyes focused on each other. "Trust and communication."

"We have to take each other's feelings into consideration," she adds, raising a pointed eyebrow. "You have to work on your anger. I'm not blaming you for anything, but… you tend to react brusquely when you're angry."

"I know," Mike nods, guilt bleeding into his eyes. "I have a short temper. You too."

"I know," she repeats, shrugging a shoulder. "We butt heads on that. But we need to control our tempers or we'll always end up like this."

"Like this?" Mike smirks, gesturing to their naked bodies. "I don't see the problem."

"Mike!" She laughs, mock-glaring at him.

He sobers up. "We both say a lot of things we don't mean when we're angry. I think it's human nature to try and hurt the other person when we feel attacked."

"I love you," El turns her head and kisses his palm. "And I'm sorry I lash out. I don't want to attack you. This time wasn't even on purpose. I really didn't want my—"

"I know you didn't mean it," he reassures quickly, kissing her forehead. "I know. You know… s _he_ is just a sensitive topic. Please don't ever mention it again to your mom."

"Never," she shakes her head. "I promise. I learned that already."

"And I promise I'll try not to run. I'll face the problem. I'll stay." Mike says with an earnest face, tapping her chin.

"Okay." El smiles.

"Okay." He nods, mirroring her smile. She leans in and kisses him, sealing their promise.

After a few minutes, she leans back. "I need a shower. We both need a shower. And there's a dirty condom that needs to be put in the trashcan."

"We'll have to shower together. You know, to save water. The bill is getting crazy, this government, I tell you." Mike shakes his head, helping her to get off him.

"Yeah, right," El snorts, crawling to the foot of the bed. "I'll shower with you but no funny business. I think my legs are going to fall off tomorrow."

He appears behind her, kissing her shoulder, standing in all his naked glory. "You okay? I didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She smiles, turning around and placing a hand on his cheek. She tugs her tie off him. "This uniform, on the other hand…"

"Yeah, you need to wash this." Mike laughs, unfastening her skirt and holding her arm as she wiggles the garment off. "Don't think Brenner likes the smell of sex."

She makes a face, placing the skirt and tie on the unmade bed and taking his hand. "Don't think he even knows it."

He guides her out of the room and into the hallway. "What do you know? Maybe he…" he makes a face as well. "Why are we even talking about Brenner's sex life? Gross."

"You started it, you piggy." She teases, pinching his butt when they enter the bathroom.

"Hey! Hands to yourself, missy. No funny business."

She laughs, walking into the shower after him. She stands back against the wall and watches as he fumbles with the handles. She regrets her position the minute the water explodes out of the head and drenches her in cold water.

A horrified gasp tumbles out of her mouth in shock, and she hurries to press herself to a laughing Mike, who's still turning the hot water handle. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"You're an ass!" She whines, shivering against his back as her cold and wet hair plasters to her skin.

"Sorry," Mike chuckles, turning around to hug her close, one hand extended to feel the temperature of the shower. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"Right."

"I swear," he kisses her wet head, wrapping his arms around her and walking them under the shower head once the water turns warm. "Told you once I wouldn't hurt you on purpose."

El hums. "Yeah," she leans back to kiss him, water droplets falling on their faces. "Yeah, you did." He still has some yellowish bruising under his right eye, just at the top of his cheek, and there's a faint scar by his eyebrow. He got away lucky, but the reminders of his accident are still there. Still, he's beautiful.

He kisses her back, and the water keeps getting in their way.

It's not perfect, it's not ideal, but it's them and that's enough.


End file.
